Los Conquistadores

Outside, the day is pushing time

Flooding colour into countless hours

Watching the seconds struggle against the walls of hungry centuries,

Searching the wild jungles of the past

As the night points to paths of bodies;

Each corpse rushing to hide within the breeze of memory

Only to disappear into the terrifying agelessness of reason-

Unraveling that which has been erased

Into the murderous blur of doubt and faith.

Borrow, break and fuse the gold,

The religion,

And the bones.

Carve out the heart for God to see

Toss out the native tongues

And carry the golden cross with metal armour:

The sacrifice has been made.