T
Literature
Their Voices Ring From the night so dark and deep,
from beneath the willow where they sleep,
from the dusk of days just past,
from the valleys so very vast,
from the mountains laden with snow
from the trees and woodland rows,
their voices ring for miles and miles,
to tell all of an unjust trial.
From the tundra’s frigid cold,
from the spirits so very old,
from the hills and rivers wild,
from the prairies with sight for miles,
from the winds that carry far,
from the earth in which they are,
their voice ring for miles and miles,
to tell all of an unjust trial.
Sorrow and joy, hunger and happiness,
cloud the days with wonder'ness.
Swift and silent is its way,
to kill its food and its prey,
their voices ring for miles and miles,
to tell all of an unjust trial.
Gone are the days of peaceful slumber.
Forests filled with fallen lumber.
Ran and ran did the spirits old,
from the beings out of control.
Never giving, only taking,
from the woods that now stood naked.
The earth was scorched, now stood
