Voices in the Fire Sky
Two figures stand where the firewinds rise,
Wrapped in the dawn of crimson skies.
Feathers crown their shadowed hair,
Whispers of ancestors linger there.
The mountains glow with sacred flame,
Each spark a spirit, each star a name.
Their cloaks hold songs of woven thread,
Stories of the living, prayers for the dead.
They walk the path where earth meets light,
Guided by visions through endless night.
O children, remember when embers fly—
Our people still walk in the painted sky.
Voices in the Fire Sky
Two figures stand where the firewinds rise,
Wrapped in the dawn of crimson skies.
Feathers crown their shadowed hair,
Whispers of ancestors linger there.
The mountains glow with sacred flame,
Each spark a spirit, each star a name.
Their cloaks hold songs of woven thread,
Stories of the living, prayers for the dead.
They walk the path where earth meets light,
Guided by visions through endless night.
O children, remember when embers fly—
Our people still walk in the painted sky.
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