In eighteen hundred and sixty four,
a blight darkened man kinds' history.
The shame the new country bore,
wars that left no pride or dignity..
The high, rolling Colorado plains,
amidst abundance and rivers flow.
Through winters cold and summer rains,
life revolved around the great buffalo.
The legacy of ancestral teaching,
the Cheyenne and Arapaho flourished.
The lands horizon, sacred and far reaching,
their souls and bodies nourished.
A sea of white washed from the east,
in waves over this unspoiled land.
On the lure of riches the miners feast,
served golden ore mixed with sand.
Distrust arose as the new invaders,
disrespected the mother earth.
In droves came the rag tag raiders,
knowing nothing of its' true worth.
Tension arose between red man and white,
small skirmishes engaged to stem the flow.
The territories Fort Lyon took up the fight,
more seeds of unrest to scatter and sow.
John Evans the territorial governor,
a volunteer army recruited.
Rabble hundred day wonders were,
signed on, embedded and saluted.
The tribes refused to give up and run,
and live forever on stark reservations.
Evans brought colonel John Chivington,
to calm the lacerated relations.
A known believer in the supremacy,
of the white mans entitlement.
No respect, the epitome of hypocracy,
looked down on others with abasement.
Talks of peace between the two factions,
evolved with nothing duly accomplished.
Chief Black Kettle amidst distraction,
surmised a treaty was now established.
By Sand Creeks banks they camped,
believing this to be their sanctuary.
But Chivington, new orders vamped,
deceitful over powering of the unwary.
With a band of seven hundred,
in the early morning dawn.
The charge he led thundered,
until in death most all were gone.
Terror and panic and little escape,
from the riders and their rifles.
A few did survive the armies' rape,
of the innocents thought of as trifles.
Massacred women and children,
obscene desecration of the remains.
Trophies macabre displayed when,
the blood no longer ran from veins.
Injustice soon to be rectified,
as the news spread to the east.
Told tales of those who had died,
and Chivington, the beast.
That day the Great Spirit appeared,
embracing the souls of those that had died.
Freed spirits that into eternity peered
on the moaning wind their spirits reside.
