Custer Like Me (Forsaken)

Where arrows, slender, sing and die,
you stare upon the trusted sky.
Victorious glut, you're lost.
Seeking second comes with a cost.

Made to retreat to the hill,
where the bison once stood tall,
you are small, smaller
than you made them all.

You cornered yourself,
an imbecile amid
true warriors, unlike you.
Your stance, your fear,
none greater.

There upon the territory,
where vanity won, you lose.
They scalp your dignity,
as if you had some.

Veins thick with humility,
spilt upon the stolen ground.
Defiled amid the defiled,
your lost legend your only sound.

Victorious glut, you've lost.
Seeking second came with a cost.
Where arrows, slender, sing and die,
you stare upon the trusted sky,
forsaken.