Voices of the past

hear you, I hear your voices.

Your cry’s of fear, your screams of pain

A people gone, never forgotten.

I stand alone here.

Evening mists roll in  enveloping me in a cold damp shroud of the past.

Around me the winds howl , screaming the torments and injustices of days gone by now.

I hear you, I hear your voices echoing in the winds of time, over and over again.

Telling me of your sorrows , whispering to me of your shame.

For no one listened then ,

No one heard your voices,

I hear you, I hear your voices.

I hear you in  the cry of the Proud and mighty eagle, In the winding rolling rivers.

I hear you in the har that rolls in off the sea,

It was not so very long ago we were free

A people that stood proud  with heads held high. .

A proud race, I hear your voice.

I heard you , I heard your voices the day I stood upon a high hill

and let the land  give up it’s secrets to me.

I see your spirits returning on their homeward journey.

If I close my eyes and breath , just breath

I can feel the heaviness in my lungs,

 for the air is not sweet here, it is putrid with the smell of death,

This land is not pure, it runs in blood,

Rotting flesh lies beneath.

So many, so many.

I heard you I heard your voices.

History has told it’s tale,