They were the masters of this land
young rulers they used to be
an empire built upon the river of gods

On one fine spring morning
Out come a group prayers
speaking the language of the other kind
thirst in their eyes
demanding
with viciousness
whispering this is for others’ lives
and robbed their homeland

They spread their wings
towards the thick atmosphere
vanished where another reign lies
They bit the sky in pieces
and splashed down was joy
blessed the children
rescued the prayers
washed away the history
abandoned their kingdom

they fly over the rivers
to be only guests of this land