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  • Lost

    I have become lost upon this road
    My head turns side to side everyday
    As I look to the deepest part of my soul
    The hurts I can no longer hide
    It shows in my face and everyday life

    I carry a large burden many do not know
    The truth of who I am covered like snow
    Does it get better this is what I ask
    It seems to be wall after wall mirrors and glass

    But what do we do when we get like this
    I talk with the ancestors and remove myself from bliss
    This road has been many times before
    Although less travelled its a winner for sure

    They walk then we walk this is how it is set
    Our ancestors already know but why do we forget
    We are being made to rise again
    Soon Native American will mean all colors of skin

    Dont be scared for they kill not the soul
    Speak your peace let your words go
    For the truth that we do hold
    Its in our heart and is witness to our soul
    We stand together on this day
    No hurt no pains and this is not for play

    Raise your head and do your dance
    Many do not know the truth of our tracks
    They have been made very long ago
    When they lead us away from home on the road

    But today they lead us back
    Let go and dont hold on
    We will rise again as a nation and live on
    We are Native our indengenous ways we have not forgot
    They have lead us 12000 years and more and will not stop.

    May the Great Spirit Bless you

    Take Care
    Tann
    Last edited by tanner; 02-24-2009, 11:57 PM. Reason: Title Is lead us SRY
    "May the Great Spirit Bless you"

    It is better to have less thunder in the mouth and more lightning in the hand.
    Apache

    There is no death, only a change of worlds.
    Duwamish

    When you are in doubt, be still, and wait;
    when doubt no longer exists for you, then go forward with courage.
    So long as mists envelop you, be still;
    be still until the sunlight pours through and dispels the mists
    -- as it surely will.
    Then act with courage.
    Ponca Chief White Eagle (1800's to 1914)

    Humankind has not woven the web of life.
    We are but one thread within it.
    Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves.
    All things are bound together.
    All things connect.

    Chief Seattle, 1854

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