The Millennial Atlas

Fading trees, eroding sand,
A future rests in untrained hands,
So what are we supposed to do?
The answer, now, is up to you,
Only.

How could one mend a world unseen
Mixing desire with Nature? How obscene
That to one side or the other many lean;
Fateful progress dies in between
Two sides mocked in word and deed.
The ultimate story our posterity reads,
Written in the language of our own clan
Will either hasten still or stop the bleeding;
Will justify the irony of stolen lands,
Or it won't.

Weeds creeping deeper into our dreams,
Personal, personal become those screams!
It forms nightmares for children, only
Then could they hope to understand
The fate of the Native American man:
Trapped in a world of disconnect, clung
To words of intent and honest tongue
While acid Materialism surely stung
Eroded to bone dreams still restrained,
Eroded inhumane acts to fables.
Burning, slowly, then all at once
As the devil fully turns the tables
On a righteous, once heroic, land:
Forgotten.

No mission more righteous than to tame
The unbridled nature of our fellow man.
Nothing could be more confusing, insane
Terrifying or unholy than this foreign clan:
Stays blind to the destruction in their wake;
How can they drain the beautiful land?
Ignorance.

And only if unity binds us in virtue,
And only if you join hand in hand--
With friend and foe to free those chains
That tie us all to the same demand
Can we escape the corrosive rains
That killed an innocent system’s plan.
This only, would cause rise to the sun
On a new age where hope and bliss withstand.

As though Everest’s peak forever rung
Out sounds of peace and glory, sung
By a man whose battles have just begun--
Yes.

Our first fight has, only then, been won.