A darkened heart has hidden places,
away from those who judge his deed,
chasing shadows into alleys,
& looking how to fill a need,
Cloaking all,
his face is covered,
as endless pain the empty bleed,
an emotional vampire,
drinking their blood,
taking lives within the greed,
Waving in the other bad ones,
guttural beast's,
a different breed,
laid upon the alter for him,
planting there a rotten seed,
We must fight,
against an enemy,
I ride in on a native steed,
though he may look like I do,
sadly though,
he mustn't lead,
From the ashes,
fanning fires,
I hope my words you truly read,
he, we know will likely burn us,
& do so with such lightning speed,
This is who we wanted leading,
as many now,
wish to secede,
though I am crying for a Nation,
saving us,
must be agreed,
I wear my war paint into battle,
sweat rolls down,
a Native bead,
I wear a headdress for your freedom,
hear my yipping words,
I plead,
In hopes that we can find a new way,
a warning from the past to heed,
we must take the bad from gardens,
getting out a choking ****,
I look to skies for distant answers
as I chew upon a hallowed reed,
tell me Father's
which way do we go,
by the wise we will be freed
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Not sure what this is really about because the world sure is strange right now all we can do is ask the answers and write down what they tell us. When I speak of father as I speak the forefathers and founding fathers and my native fathers and when I say I go into battle I am referring to my native ancestors going in for us too. ❤