Sadness and sorrow
is thick
(in what is left)
on the breathes
of our noble men
S
c
a
t
t
e
red bodies
crowdedcompactedandcompressed--
thieved of our glory
and stripped of our pride
forced to survive beneath
the feet of wandering eyes
sleeping among a silence that seems too violent
to compromise
from sunset to sunr
i e
s
harro-
wing whispers and
tender cries