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Monday, March 1, 2010

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All along the dusty bank,
floats 45 boats full of men,
ready to own, and ready to seize,
any land they see.

They drop the hatch,
and storm the land,
down the natives,
and take their gold.

Their mothers must not have taught them,
You can't just take what isn't yours,
It's just not polite.

They continue on, and take more land,
until they can't take much more,
and they live like kings,
fit to rule the land.

Until that very day that one stood up,
and said "no more" to the the kings and men.

Oh they fought hard, but a force was behind this young one,
a force we'll never know, but their sword was strong,
and the fight was short.

To the top they rose, but to the land they gave,
their heart and protection.

Oh young one, we love you!
You have sent legions to the grave,
but sent us new birth. You, we trust.