Standing in the land of the great Apaches
Midst blooming wild poppies
and the mammoth elephant grasses,
thinking of the dream that once Martin Luther had.
May be the days of chivalric Camelot are over,
as I heaved reclining on the grand arm chair;
vicious winds from the North gushed
echoing footsteps of a massive feet
opening a narrow pass for the
grim shadow of Lincoln to flicker by,
leaving behind trails of the Fallen Soldiers
on the path once trodden by the
fierce Indian Tribes.