Tears of Blood
____by Disha Patel

In the meadows of my ancestors
I am reminded of their sorrow
As the Dances of the Ghosts narrate the story of
Tears of Blood.

So tractable, so peaceable, are these people
Where children dance with the birds in the air and
infants learn to crawl with the bears
Yet, these cries of laughter change into
Tears of Blood.

Soon the once sweet-watered streams, bearing Indian names,
Become clouded with silt and the wastes of man
Our homes, friends, and loved ones quickly perished with
Tears of Blood.

Has God forgotten us, leaving us as victims to the steal blades,
Laughter diminishes to screams of a crazy man that
Haunted the air, grappling for a sense of his mercy-
Tears of Blood.

They came, like a swarm of killer bees
But we were not afraid, we hoped to tell them of our troubles,
But the black death shielded their ears and eyes
as our faces drowned in the
Tears of Blood.

The Sioux in their grief of Sitting Bull,
The Chiricahuas in their grief of Cochise
Became acquainted to the symbol of destruction-the
Tears of Blood.

Where today are the Mohican, the Narragansett, and the Peqout?
They have vanished under my heavy cloak of
Tears of Blood.

Stolen! Stolen from our civilization, we worked for
These pale men with lethal steel barrels,
We fell victim to greater betrayals. But no one saw our
Tears of Blood.

Will we let them destroy us without a struggle
And give up our homes, families, and abandon our Mother Earth?
The graves of our dead ones cry: fight for our
Tears of Blood.

Now tears of joy fall down my face as I smile for my ancestor's victory,
But the blood returns, for I am reminded by the Ghosts
That our world has not witnessed "Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men".
The Tears of Blood will return...