Sundrance Poem by Kris Rayagiri

Steel iron
rust and sand
Sundrance in the sense of duty
A fight for the land

Good people
evil people
hatred and love
all leading to dance
of death and misery
Resting to go back again
into the barren fields of blood and agony

My dear dear boy
love your mother and sister
take care of them for me
I may not see the day tomorrow
I hope at the end of this all
you can be free

cracking and squealing rustic bed
I lay upon as I experience the dread
I'm not not afraid
I'm not not crying

I accept and I believe
yet somewhere I feel
Sundrance in the sense of duty

Steel iron
rust and sand
I lay bleeding and bland
thinking about you
my dear dear boy