Predator, my nation

Crossed rifles stare right at me from the brass
Lost light fills night, the ocean clear at last
The shadow on the quay
The shallow grave at sea
The gallowsman decrees the die is cast

Forearm forces mud aside to breathe
Four armfuls, floods arise as they leave
When the bayou bursts
you’ll buy your own true worth
To earth for arms, they cannot bring reprieve

Language left right through present’s pathway
Languished deftly, fights for new peasants halfway
through transcendent transition
Truth traverses tradition
Fissions with land given over to class race

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