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