the bleeding...

i have lost my voice
in lands long gone
tongue of red
skin of white
o beloved deer
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my hearing
in sounds of death
ears of stone
cast to the winds
o beloved bison
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my sight
in warriors slain
eyes of love
turned to fright
o beloved child
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my touch
in muskets drawn
hands of gore
take their toll
o beloved land
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my soul
in skin of white
bleeds red
through the black night
o beloved tribe
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

my
heart
bleeds

red
.
.
.

red sun setting...

it was the time

of white stars shining

the spring of the deep forest dent

when sadness settled in

like the gods' seven signs

and the screaming storms

filled the canyons tall

                                                      and the deer ran wild
                                                      and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
of the red sun setting
the summer of all hell bent
when sorrow sprang up
through the orange trumpet vine
and the bleeding clouds
filled the rivers red
                                                      and the deer ran wild
                                                      and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
of red leaves falling
the autumn of anguish
when agony rolled in
like a cancer’s sick slime
and the blistering hail
filled the white devils’ pail
                                                     and the deer ran wild
                                                     and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
of the pale moon rising
the winter of discontent
when grief reigned down
on the green mountain pine
and the howling winds
filled the barren skies
                                                   and the deer ran wild
                                                   and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
the time of                                 white stars shining
                                                   pale moon rising
                                                   red leaves falling
                                                   red sun setting
it was the time
the time when                           white on red maliciously tread
                                                  red on red no longer bred
                                                  red and red no longer red
and the
red son met                               the spring of the deep forest dent
                                                  the summer all hell bent
                                                  the autumn of anguish
                                                  the winter of discontent
and the red sun set

it was the time
the red sun set                         and the deer no longer ran wild
                                                 and the buffalo roamed no more
it was the time
of the red son
                                                 no more
and the red sun
set
.