Everyday our numbers dwindle lower and lower.
The long road had claimed more lives
Than the war we thought we had left behind,
And will continue as we push forward.
An endless stretch of dirt, with faded
Footprints from previous brothers and
Sisters who had ventured before us.

Stripped of home, food, even clothing,
My people were left with what we could
Quickly grab as we were forced from our village,
And had to watch in horrified silence as
The men in black burned it down, hut by hut.

My beloved father, the man
Who had taught me to hunt,
To fish, to forgive, had fallen
Ill while travelling on the road.
The man in black would not
Allow me to stop and mourn,
Nor to bury my father.

For three days we walked,
Not stopping to eat or drink.
A few of the men in black had
Stopped and made camp to rest
Their horses and themselves,
But the remaining men resumed
Marching us down the long road ahead.
No stopping for any such reason.
We were left to eat and drink what we
Had stowed in our pouches, and
To defecate in our drawers.

Twice we had passed a stream of
Cool, crystal blue water, and
A man or woman would
Run for it, attempting to collect water
For their families that were dying of thirst.
Twice they were cut down by the men
In black, bounding in on horseback,
And in one swift motion removed the
Sword from their hips and swung with one
Fluid motion, removing their heads.

My legs are beginning to give out.
I have no water, and my throat is
Raw from the lack of liquids.
I cannot go on like this.
As I fall to my knees, and
struggle to keep my head up,
The people that I had known
All my life begin to trip and stumble
Over me, not bothering to look
Down at me.

The man in black had
Turned his head, and saw
That I was not moving. He
Pulled out his sword and
Started walking towards me.
I wanted to look this man in the
Eyes as he killed me. To see
If he had any remorse for what
He was going to do. But I was too
Weak to keep my head up. All things
Considered, I actually smiled. I
Was going to see Father very soon.