Ten Thousand Arrows
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That night, the sky screamed for mercy and the earth screamed for forgiveness.
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The whole world is aflame
The blame unfurled and laid at the young lady's feet
The plume of every soldier's crested head licked by fire
Set to music: The loom, weaving screams and off-key beats
And a steady rhythm of self-satisfied laughter
Two arrows melting heady in each madman's eyes
Those in white harrowing those in white, hate notched at a point
And the weight of the ages, and the lies strung upon lies
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The cold, burning depths of night
A stretching blight extending arrest
A cage of fire trapping us in our history like the
Subtle ire rising from our tranquil nests
Sealed away, our world, another world, preserved
In ash, observed as a blackened forest
A cradled melody of broken wings
And things once adored, unspoken, left better unseen
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This is the story
The story
The story
Not written on paper or in stone, with ink or with chisel
But with blood and with fire
Our survivors on arrow-clipped wings with burnt wingtips in our hearts
Our lost ancestors and ancestors and ancestors and songs
Our history written with arrows