Taste the elixir of the shadowy graves
That small boned children left behind.
Each in a grave of dirt and decay
They hold a vile determination.
Each night their bony fingers stretch up
Scratching the earth above.
They dig till daybreak
With no avail as the earth just falls
On top of them, burying them deeper.

A small child once,
In a little village sang.

She sang of the River and Sky.
Then the men came and took her away,
Abused her and forced her to sing.

Sing, sing sing.

Always singing the songs of her captures.
Yet at night she sang of her Gods.

They pitied her and vented full wrath
Upon the men that day,
Their children born in hate and lust
Would grow to be like them,
Till they the age of the girl
Would die.
And seek forever,

Freedom from their graves.