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First morning gray.

The part of the morning between sunup and dark
the best time to launch an attack.

My young sons and I stand silent.Overlooking
the enemy’s camp below. The great spirit guides
my path... The eagle carries my soul.The elders spoke
of their arrival, and warned this native son well.Now
I take up arms to join them... in the Pantheon of those
who chose to rebel.My heart does beat in time with the
wardrum, my ears hear the cry of the brave.For the land
you occupy is sacred, and my freedom you cannot take
away.Savage indeed I will slash till they bleed, and fertilise
the proving ground. First morning gray into the fray I come
bringing vengeance with hardly a sound.My sons and my brethren
carry the mark of warrior chiefs, come now to test the ones who invade
Fearless we ride in this oncoming tide to taste the blood with our blades.
Like the morning’s fog mist we carry the chill straight to the bone, and
forever you’ll regret the day, that foolishly you thought you would simply
lay claim.... to the true home of the brave!

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Autres oeuvres par Karla Hart...



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