From ancestral lands, a quiet grace,
Stories etched in time and space.
The drumbeat pulses, a timeless song,
To which the sacred rivers long.
Across the plains, the eagle soars,
Guardian of forgotten shores.
Wisdom held in ancient stone,
A heritage not left alone.
With reverence for the earth and sky,
Underneath the watchful eye.
A spirit strong, a spirit free,
For generations, eternally.
No comments:
Post a Comment