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Open Poetry #11
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Last Of A Kind
| Open Poetry #11 |
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Last Of A Kind |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas 
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High above the plain sitting his horse of chocolate and white, face marked in shades of charcoal and gray, the last of his tribe looked in mournful silence at the long string of wagons advancing on his land. Thoughts of those he loved, his people, a thousand strong, proud and free, gone now, their dust enriching the land, weighed heavy in his heart. He screamed his agony, broke his lance, tossed it away, ripped the feather from his head, tossed it to the wind, drew his knife, slashed his chest, yet again, and again, and again; then slammed his heels into his horse's flanks and with a piercing, heart-rending scream, they leaped from the plateau into the arms of his people, awaiting the release of his soul. w. james beard, jr. © December 2000 |
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| © Copyright 2000 Wesley James Beard, Jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
Sven
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
the end of a people . . . excellent. . . too good to be back here. . . --------------------------------------------------------- That which gives light must endure burning --Victor Frankl |
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Paula Finn Member Ascendant
since 2000-06-17
Posts 5546missouri |
This is so heartbreaking...the deliberate extermination of a race...yet we went to war to stop just that...we will never learn |
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Dark Enchantress Senior Member
since 1999-07-27
Posts 1258meet Morgana |
People tend to destroy what they don't understand...and therein I suppose...lies the path that can only lead to the end. Lovin' it! (the poem that is...not the concept of destroying races..  )< !signature-->I am no one if not myself. ~*SeLf PrOcLaImEd FrEaK oF nAtUrE*~ [This message has been edited by Dark Enchantress (edited 12-30-2000).] |
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Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
JWesley~ This was a passioned write for you, I know. The spirit of the tribe lives on - though many were taken - we will not let the legends die. They will live on in the tellings. Thank you, my friend. ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ [email protected] |
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