"Spirits of the Aurora"

 

Up above,

there in the white,

way down deep

but still in sight,

scars from evils deeds

are painted everywhere.

 

Like battles lost

in every war,

the victims are for evermore,

left to wander

with nothing more or

nothing less to fear.

 

Spawned of tradition,

their hearts still beat

the rhythm of the ages,

but not defeat.

They endure thus

as clouds on a frantic storm.

 

But the relentless Aurora,

sentry of their domain,

still dances among them

and strengthens their dream.

One of belief,

and one of dignity yet untorn.

 

Up above,

there in the white,

ancestors and spirits

watch over their plight.

Let no evil soul

for a moment claim their right.

 

For ages ago

from the white they were spawned,

and unto the night,

or o'er the dawn,

the ribbons of the Aurora

remain their spirit's guiding light.

 

 

h...burt...'99