Lost: The Broken Tribe

The death of the tribe,

no Shaman could heal.

The last one so lost,

so alone, losing herself.

Losing the world, her heart,

broken into two.

Broken into thousands.

The music keeps pounding,

the tears keep rolling.

As the ghosts call to me.

Come back, relax,

learn to forget.

As your brother's bleed.

Reviews

[Michael X]

there is a strong connection in this awsome poem, to nature, to earth and surroundings, I could feel the ideas flow from the heart and with it the inspiration that gives the words their lyrical quality and
depth, reminds me of sadness and yearning and hope,before fleeting, you have a great way with words,
I loved this, its captured in essence, and heartfully projected as such. i'mlooking forward to catching
up on your work, its so nice to see you back.