Marked for a tribal future
The face of a stranger appears in a dream
And then fades into a forgetting day
What breath, what breeze
Could change our fate?
Clothed in kindred spirits
The face of mother like the sun never to set
Nothing to be seen in the glare
What war, what want
Could change our minds?
Driven by a need so deep
It's never to be named, not to be met
Pushing down, down into dust
What rhetoric, what ritual
Could change our hearts?
Marked. A bloody future
Subsumed by the wounds of a stranger
Scars. Remembrance. The Human Family.
Inspired by the photographic series, The Human Family by Martin Crep
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