Out in the woods this Dig shall be

Out in the woods this Dig shall be
Behind the trees the Fading sun slowly withdraws
A Fire we’ll set all night long
Married to nature, born afresh
And here we’ll shed our Sorrows
Accumulated over years of civilizing torture
Though penniless we have pleasure more fulfilling
Relaxed and bound to the Windy tunes, we
Strut on chords much more like hymns
Our voices would go up in Songs
We’ll stump and dance around the fire
And none would leave the same again.
Could it be our generations lost?
And our age aged away
Are we a monument raised to time?
The very last of our breed?
Could we be the closing page?
Of this great tribal drama?
Are we a dynasty doomed for death? Seeing
The sun in its last lap?
As a breed we’re no surer of our reach, or have we
As a race breeched our gene?
Collectively waiting for our pay from god?
Yet individually, we’ve been told we can be saved
For each man his Cross must bear!


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