and my other poem
What it feels like to be the Last
Until the birth of my Nephew and niece my sisters and I were the last.
The only existing DNA link, to our leaders, our healers of the past.
But one thing I can’t understand. The wide range of definitions of freedom, used by the different races with each new generation of man.
I was told I was free, free to get something to eat, Free to be taught what my people believe, and remain with my family.
Free to finally sleep safe in the darkness and feel alright
But I toss and turn trying to adapt back to the fact our travels no longer have to be done in the middle of the night.
I must continue the fight; the ultimate test of our people depends on my might, perseverance and clarity of my vision
To lead us, free us from the world biggest kept secret, our threat of extinction
If on my final phase and transition from this life our existence remains as only a memory to those left behind
I will breathe the breath of eternity with great relief
That we left earth as who we are, the warrior I was born to be
If I succeed in not letting assimilation embed itself in what’s left of my identity, then and only then we will finally be free and can say we never ever accepted defeat
This open post was written 5 months, 2 weeks ago | V/U/S: 160, 1, 2 | Edit Post | Leave a reply | Report Post
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