The Conquistador

I wrote this poem about a previous lifetime that I remember, in rhyming four-line verse.

Think not that I am come to bring peace, I bring not peace but a sword. -Matthew 10:34

The Conquistador 

four hundred years ago, or more
the bloody cross broke down my door.
"I bring not peace, I bring a sword
to kill your family in the name of the Lord.

I bring rough hands to hold you down
amid the bodies all around
I bring a weapon to invade your womb
amidst your tribe's eternal tomb.

for you all are pagans, not civilized men
you never shall live free again
we are the Conquistadors, masters of all
before us all heathens will fall.

I bring you death, if we so choose
either way your life you'll lose
for you, young girl, the life of a pretty slave
torture and then an early grave."

Four hundred years ago or more
their bloody cross broke down my door
but the soul is eternal, beyond their grasp
and beyond their reign my soul will last.