People of the Land

Sub-society among this world of wrong or right The sweet perfume of incense carries prayers in the night An open window frees the smoke of vengeance laced with spite As messenger the wind will carry what it might The wisdom of a thousand generations hand in hand Bring secrets guarded with the lives of people of the land So be it fate or destiny or power of desire An element of earth and wind and water and of fire Some people don't believe in what they do not understand Traditional beliefs have always reigned with upper hand Without expiration there are many who have died Just coincidence perhaps or maybe hands that hide Do what you will with the art of black or white In this world a bond exists between a wrong and right Natural laws and energies amidst the atmosphere With disembodied souls of good but evil always near