[b]The Less[/b]
we are the less
without father, mother, sibling, child.
we are not blessed,
neither meek or mild.
we are mustered
by the evocation of memory
at the ebony gates of our adversary.
psycholgical scars run like fault lines
through our gathered throng.
our parched voices sing the changes:
an ancient song in our mother tongue.
for many a long year
we have not known fear
or loathing, now immersed
in the updraft of terror's wings.
all but the graves are gone
our land is nought without nation.
as the spirit has died
we are twice tongue tied.
we are the less.
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