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Autumn Leaves

volume 5 number 6

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I Am the Lone Indian!

by Larry Kibby

Silent reason lonely in the night,
Eyes searching for a tranquil light,
Most things always wrong nor ever right.
Isolated thoughts corrupting the mind,
Troubled heart drained of time,
Emotions dejected and not never fine.
What is a saddened name,
Which love has no flame,
That dies into shame?
I am but an image of a wasted place,
For my shadow has no face
I am without race,
My nation void of space.
I am a solitary image, I am the lone Indian!

Water like fantasies in the eye,
Complete tears not wet just dry,
Rejected by a blessing sigh.
Comments laughing at the start,
Pious words revealing a teasing remark,
Gestures of a game to tear the heart.
Sanity shaken in vain,
Frowns of lowly disdain,
Sorrow accepting the splendor of pain.
I am but an image of a wasted place,
For my shadow has no face
I am without race,
My nation void of space.
I am a solitary image, I am the lone Indian!

Cometh to me grim angel of liberty,
As you unleash your compassion of witty
For I know naught nor care for any pity.
I am stabbed in the back with cherishing hate,
An enhanced dislike sent at a fast rate,
Your joy of my decease a opportune towards my fate.
All the while dispensing a laughing and silly care,
Professing to reinforce the saturated despair,
Remembering not to send the spirit for repair.
I am but an image of a wasted place,
For my shadow has no face
I am without race,
My nation void of space.
I am a solitary image, I am the lone Indian!

Looking into the grave end far away,
Interviewing the heart with evil voices to say
Mystic isolation a prize made a treachery way.
Black shadow evolving from the ground,
Finding the bronze girl from the death town,
Heart of love severed and thrown grinning down.
Cold emotions forming a chill,
Gloomy blood running uphill,
Angered loves diminishing through a window sill.
I am but an image of a wasted place,
For my shadow has no face
I am without race,
My nation void of space.
I am a solitary image, I am the lone Indian!

Dark angels of mortality wishing in the night,
Mortals, man and woman spoke in the light,
"My heart is your heart!"
And upon the clouded winds he took flight,
Passing forever more out of sight.
I am now but a clouded image from a wasted place,
And my shadow will never have no face,
I am and always will be without race,
My nation void of stolen space.
I am a solitary image, I am the lone Indian!

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Copyright © 2001, Larry Kibby, all rights reserved.
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