Last Hours (Forsaken)

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

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

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

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

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 amidst the defiled,
your stained legend the 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.