torn of this land s disgrace too hungry to contain a future the sun bathes my wounds with a veil of rage it s rays dyed with the blood of our disrespect suffering for the wisdom long forgotten the sound of bloodletting echoes on the wind the suicide of drought for a faith destroyed we starve with pride and glass in our throats harvest their return those who drive away the sun the masks lay fallen sheltered in the dust tearing our flesh amongst wolves see how they run as we laugh in lunar horizons there is understanding harvest their return carry my soul to the sun1