We the peasants
Trolled on paths ancient
The prints of the wind ran
Could our elder could comprehend
The plans of the Most Ancient of ancients?
We knew not where this map began
Seeing scars of the bygone
How the razor-sharp grass pierced the astray
They dragged in mud and damp
Fighting themselves in their loss
Culture is wealth
Our fathers left more than land
Faith, fate, and the gods hover
Weaving our present for future
Perhaps we pray for favor
Our toil was not for the eyes
Who knows what the days bring?
Our functioning was not the only path
Who knows the way to Heaven?
We just wanted happiness.
Authored by Moses Saywrayn
Featured by Unsplash
