Fields of Buried Oppression

Years of war, still not free This great storm, it calls me Sharpened claws and iron teeth Like flames of hell, it now burns I stand strong and fit for battle The farthest shores the deepest seas I am the watcher I am the protector I am the hunter I am Crawl to their holes Like snakes they slither Pile their bodies Rain from the sky I am the sun I am the night Pluck out the eyes Of their children Not one shadow of their existence Behind the mountains The prowling wolf