Written after I learned the history books don't hold all the information |
Bitterness makes bitter hate And with the hate unbounded fear Thus “gentlemen” who love their state Turn to their government deaf ear Thus individuals may steer The course and life of other men And run them from their home, and jeer And fire shots, and stand and grin Thus so dark ages do begin Women and children jouney far To cross open prarie yet again Viewed by light of single star Yet hatred never stood to mar The faithful and the most devout While feet bled and muscles jarred While children fell, not one cried out They marched upon a blood-stained route Not knowing where the path would lead Knowing how torture came about Refusing surrender to evil greed As mud-faced men on dark black steeds Brought death to smithy via chinks Took weapons for their evil needs And proved themselves the missing links Yet while they celebrate with drinks A life is saved, a boy may walk Still they dream to make extinct Still they rumble bitter talk The drunken men step forth to stalk The state gives strength and turns its head As mortal bodies crumble to chalk Men, women, children fall down, dead But when the town is painted red The people rise up, strong in heart They listen to what has been said And join together what falls apart Move forth again to make new start To build a temple far more great Withstanding bullets and bitter darts To love their God despite their state. **For the martyrs and survivors of Haun’s Mill, Far West, in between, and forever after |