There is no tomorrow for them who are
a sleepless wanderer seeking for its soul
asking for forgiveness.
Promises left within to die in the wind
hopes in trust..
Like their breath whispers a thousand
the break of dawn shines through their promises
no one spare a shine of light,
everyone has to die..
Soldiers drunk by whiskey within hate and
fire their arms.
Killed by them who didn’t understand
A sound of madness shouted out loud
buried so deep in an evil silence,
dies within last cries.
Sounds of horses
touches the ground...
Dont leave me,
im not still dead..
shouted tears ,
running with children..
We all exist..
Our land is our soul, we treasure
what mother nature provided for us,
honoring our gift to walk through her creations of beauty..
The great one gave us
our life to walk on this earth in hope we
always keep her safe...
Thousands of years
we kept our promises
we welcomed them into our garden of truth...
No one speaks the words of the past anymore
nature poisoned dying...
no less, no more
we died for what is truly ours..
Some of us
burried by the bullets, unarmed in a massacre in anger
some in hunger in a walk in a dead landscape
history is ours
By Dennis Lindeblad
Once we lived
In our own way we created our future,
in our dreams we honoured them who brings
our tears rides in the wind for the
lost of and without forgiveness for the young ones
Mother nature please forgive us for
nurse for our women and children and
father send us peace and health for
don’t let us die in vain..
Oh great spirit let us walk in your
beauty once again free..
Our land is poisoned with greed without
dying in need,
there is no drums of joy
no sacred hearts protecting who we once
is forever lost…
don’t let our children forget
to be proud
remembering who they truly are…
White mans greed
like a dinosaur
By Dennis Lindeblad
By Dennis Lindeblad
The grass grows
like it will every year waiting to feed the buffalos
mother earth is tired of listening of
long lost souls who is dying..
promised land grows in blood,
honour and defeat lay its hand over
thousand of years of harmony
in respect remembering,
People who died fighting..
The great spirit let them into his world
Tears of rain cries
with its thunder in lightning
reminding us we are only guests in this
All our memories thoughts spoken words
lives in mother earth to be remembered..
By Dennis Lindeblad
The beast leaves his horse reaches for
two bullets ,
her baby died in her arms..
Men riding thru firing their arms chasing
people ,crawling thru dirt asking for
Soldier in blue rise his sword slips
throats of children,
thinks his a better man…
Burning shelter without fear ..
Solider poisoned its land
with its act..
Voices of wounded knee
No better war than
unarmed without arms to protect them
Who can call him self a man
honouring his uniform,
buried them in a mass grave with no
after two days
Let us remember them who died in fear
died for us to remembering
LAKOTA By Dennis Lindeblad
My soul is empty without
answers, our hopes and dreams vanished.
our promises our truth our heritage.
They tell us to give up our guns and
they provide for our needs..
how can they ?
they hate us for what we are ..
They want us to give up what makes us
men ,to provide for our families..
Their people learned us to long for
things we wouldn’t dream of,
they gave us things we didn’t
Like a broken marriage they took our
land and left us in sickness without health.
We made our promises and kept them into
our heart learned our children
the way of natures band.
We were to many to kill , our needs,
our families, our buffalos.
painted into the ground,
Our great leaders with wisdom hunted
just kill them for what they are..
Our starvation is another word for reservation
Id like to die like I was born
by Dennis Lindeblad
like a leaf in the wind
with it's emptiness..
fur fills in the shades
Tears ride in the wind
of thunder and lightening.
afraid of answers bitten by the wind...
A taste of a wonderful dream
man who remembers
talking about the future..
A man who can't hear
rises his voice
unforgiving ones walk
in a nightmare..
Never to be forgiven..
Them who whispers
won't be heard..
me and I bleed.
Truth Written by Dennis Lindeblad
A Man came to us with hope
put in reservation
Walks the line to get blankets,
nothing to eat,
children walk in hunger
Buffalo hunters made theirself a fortune
only the skin..
In hunger we dance for a better life..
Troops hunting our last people in freedom..
gave up our guns..
In their hearts they're seeking revenge of a mad man
killing us all.
Our souls rise
through the sky in spirits
They are not human
only mad men.
Our frozen hearts published
in mass graves with no honour.
speak of murders
honoured by their community..
My last breath
They came asking for our weapons..
starving with hunger blinded in trust..
painted by them ..
I lay my head dying within the grass
remembering it all.
soldiers with their guns
to let us know we have to die
Im not afraid..
we all die someday..
Remembers Wounded knee
Oh great spirit
We walked thru creation
we bring our children into this world.
we learned them to honour and know
how blessed they are...
a handfull tells a thousand memories
to honour in our hand..
A poised land honour and truth worship what they create in a bitten hand.
In honour he died as young man
but still a man of war..
He died entered our land in belief he was a better man,
A silence walks thru dead man last stand ..
To be remembered as greed...
Six horses seven lies..
He rides thru heaven speaks a thousand memories but not enter this world..
His tomahawk buries thousands of breath,
never to come through..
In his eyes greatness disappear into action..
Silence for them who belief…
Honouring them who died young..
In once a free world..
Against human trust you figure it out
Silent thru anger never whisper
footstep walks never speaks..
vain without …
take my breath…
In my memories I walk seventh miles
to come were I was from..
my self and what I become…
In my dreams there is some kind of answers
who find its truth..
don’t know my history
and were I came from..