The Rightful People – Poem

A people with no roots

No land to claim as their own

Vanquished from their place of origin

They journeyed through the generations

Alway on the move

Only through wits have they retained their identity,

Their culture,

And their spirit

*

Through hardships they had become undone

No longer tied to the rational

Hence they can unleash their wrath upon everything

For life is no longer holy in the eyes of the desperate

And through the ashes they will rise as the victor

Remembered by noone

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