By the tens of thousands

we vanished to the grave,

watched our children die,

so powerless to save.

Then they called us savages,

when with no place to hide,

we all too late took a stand,

to turn their crimson tide.

Our way of life was taken,

our land, our very soul.

What’s left to give our children,

now the white man’s in control.

O Great Spirit hear me,

have you turned your back and fled?

My heart has died in bitterness,

my future too seems dead.

—

Unforgiveness ties your heart

to the horrors of the past.

Why let bitterness form the mold

from which your dreams are cast?

With eyes upon a grievance,

hands clinging to a right,

is it any wonder

your future’s lost from sight?

Not one tear has fallen

that I have not felt your ache,

and their is no shackle given Me

I will not gladly break.

For I showed the Way to freedom,

when I forgave you from the tree,

let go the past, ‘though it’s all you have,

and give your life to Me.