The Creed - MD.45

From the dust of which I came

To dust I return again

From my mother I am torn

With my brothers off the war

We escape before the dawn

Try to outrun the sun

Take my own life in my hands

Fearing God but never man

Take my ancient hand, look me in the eye

Looking past the lines soon you’ll see as I

You are young if you want you could be old if you try

I can show you how to live but you can’t show me how to die

As the sun stalks the sky

I am not afraid to die

My ear upon the ground

For the ironhorse’s sound

Encircle glowing rocks

One by one each chieftain talks

Tales of yore and bravest deeds

Coveting their warrior creed

My hands will bridge the distance of beginning to the end

The time for learning ceases it was all wasted and spent

From witch doctor to shaman, Kachina doll to chief

The spirit knows what ails you, you beg for its relief

All that I know, all that I say, my heart beats and my pulse drums

Out tribal rhythms pounding through the sky