old one

old one, he stares blankly

into the vast purple twilight

on the moor of the silent prairie

dreams of times agone flew

ancestors speaking quietly

keeping hold of things he knew

many moons have come and gone

was once a brave Warrior for all

tired, he is stubborn, but broken

heaviness weighs in, leaving sighs

devoid of hope and torn apart

into the land, he will expire, and dies

like the wind flowing along the sea

old one knows what’s become of him

he returns to where his people are free

©Copyright 08 August 2009; MahTame

Hey-Gyah Ahm-Boy-Taw

~until we meet again or

until I see you again~~

Kiowa Nation