The Colony

I found myself a new world
Sailed around its ring
I wrought myself a country
And I crowned myself it’s king

I made myself religion
Carved christ in ivory
I deemed an airtight Sunday
To justify myself all the bleeding

I clawed myself a nation
And I’ve shopped its waterways
I crack the dirt for smoking out
Rhymes of energy

I gouge myself a pipeline
I dig myself a mine
I take myself a forest
To sap the growing up of your shrine

I’ve halted ghosts from dancing
Swept the prayers from the last ones left
And I kept the drums from breathing
It’s I that warped the blankets’ web
I that warp the blankets web

To speak in some such candor
I rip from the condor’s wing
I feed on loving bodies
And take the land from them to stanch their living
Take the land from them to stanch the living