The Knower

Indian Spirit

The teeth of angst

like saws of jaws

gashed the summer fields.

left behind…

old memories seared

from the ripped words

of red warriors’ truth,

raped by an uncaring kind.

charred words…

a scar blanket coveted the sacred spot where ashen faces faded

earth’s bleeding womb lashed out with cries

and eyes of sorrow.

stood again to reclaim the strength of the Knower.

the winded one

with no eyes to see

no words to speak

only mirrored images

who could stand in the rawness of this barren land

a crevice

a crack in the mind

a spark of fire to ignite again

to boil the blood of honor painted not by words but by the silent code written on scarred land marked by the Knower.

–genece hamby

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