Is anger ever satiated
Slow burn, smoking up clear skies
In the back of my mind
The ancient dance
Barefoot with the blessed beings
The magick in the trees
Is stirring
Who would stand
Between the ache of an awakening
Some thousands of years
Even angels know
The gods will return
It is only a matter of time
To the shorter wicks of life
And yet we pray
For foolish things like patience
When we are ants
To the eyes of ancients
The dust on your shoes nearly settled
Blush of the land
Do not disgrace the motherland
Will you waste your days
Painting trigger fingers on the living
Pain knows no age
Joy no companion
Your wishes to the heavens
While unanswered
Are not unheard