Out
Here,
Old
Roots
Run
Deep
Beneath
The
Sand,
Of
Tribes
Which
Roamed
This
Land,
And
One
Does
Well
To
Understand
How
Silence
Reigned,
Then
Fell
Away
With
Every
Passing
Day.
Go
West,
Was
Said,
And
Many
Make
The
Trek,
To
Build
And
Plow
Until
Now
There
Is
A
Din
Of
Noise
Covering
The
Past,
Which
Against
Progress,
Could
Not
Last.