A lone brave can never rest
  in the remains of his motherland,
hearing forefathers, their last words the legacy as they died
  forced to walk many a mile.

He Hears, from every wind
  and sees all the trees as his
destiny, even when drained of red blood
   stains, He stands in the majestic remains...

of wisdom from his past
   whispering to him to never forget
that harmony produces courage,
   heritage, comes from within.

Every grass, mineral, rock
  is rediscovered
as Spirits call to him
  from the past.