Blood has been shed
on the soil we walk on.
It flowed freely from bodies
fighting to keep us free.
And yet we continue
the sanguinary legacy.
We are the children;
bastards by birth
because we were sired by a dream
that will never be known.
We are young enough
to be weaned
at the breast
of an ill-fated mother,
yet old enough
to rape the land
with a terrestrial carnal knowledge.
We don't know where we're going;
condemned because we never will.
Dripping red on the narrow path;
searching the land and always lost.

HOME

Back