Cry of the ArrowCries of the arrows heard, as the flames burn across this landCry of the Arrow by MarluxiaXIII
Our homes taken away with the shot of a gun, oh fate is so cruel
That freedom and glory be denied to us, all because of greed
Gold and silver turning these white men, into bitter monsters.
We fight to keep our honor and country, to protect this world
While the white man make war to create a conquering empire
Happily they shoot down living things, without thinking that...
They are something of spirit, forgetting things are sacred.
My tears flow as the river does, since this be our very last battle
The eagle soar above those heavens, so let our spirits do so as well
As the honor and strength given by our grandfathers and hearts
Shall never be silenced by greed, the warrior's path never to end.
CD: LEASSON WITH THE SPIRITSCD: LEASSON WITH THE SPIRITSCD: LEASSON WITH THE SPIRITS by NativeAmericanArts
BY: Cody Foster moon wolf
Key G Track1: Spirit Quest- One your journey in the woods all alone you must find your inner spirit that will guide home. In the night you must use your senses for tracking food, water, and shelter to overcome the night.
Key G Track2: Lovely Oak- A tree that is dead from the inside but is still alive from the outside. The hallow tree when the graceful wind brushes it makes a lovely song. As the animal become calm by the trees mellow tone. Invasion the flutes tone as if it was that graceful song that was played many centuries ago.
Key G Track3: Rain Dance- dance for the cloud spirit and it will rain, Dance for him and the rain shall come for us to drink, Dance for our people that will receive the cold drops from the cloud spirit, so now you to will dance for the rain as that we have done too.
Key E or GTrack4: Thunder Bird- As the cloud spirit makes his way to the mountain, the thunder rowers, as a (n) strike of lighting shifts into
Haunted EndingsIt began many years earlier, hearing myself muttering what sounded like Native American or an unfamiliar language. It started off slowly, occasionally, and then nightly. Oddly it didn't bother me at first. It felt almost natural, as if I'd been doing it all my life. Very strange indeed. Especially to anyone who might overhear me babbling quietly to myself such odd phrases. I regretted not knowing if it was an actual language. Though it sounded more like a mixture of several. But which? The only language I'd ever spoken was English, with a bit of Spanish in high school. So what was this? I don't know. However, whenever it quietly but emotionally flowed out of my mouth and into my ears so strongly Native American, I also saw in my mind's eye (almost as if he was right there in front of me) a tall, gaunt, old Indian man with long, raggedy, slate-gray hair, sitting aloneHaunted Endings by RainySkyz