White Eagle hunt Your Tallons drip With the fresh caught prey From the bloody trip White Eagle sore Under no watchful eye Disease remains grounded All under foot Over the hills Where men had dreams Stolen and coaxed by White Buffalos seen In visions floating soon to be real Riding stolen ponies from some other bad deal Chased under the watchful eye of the creator Full knowing the cost and the cause Beaten down but not forgotten Rise Rise Up and take a stand On top of a mountain proud Saying praise to God outloud A strong face reflects now in a pool of tears Brought down so fast is so few years
© Copyright 2016 Randi Walters. All rights reserved.
Book / Non-Fiction
Short Story / Non-Fiction
Short Story / Other
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