Harried we were, and spent, broken and falling, ere as the cranes we went, crying and calling.
Summer shall see the bird backward returning; never shall there be heard those, who went yearning.
Emptied of us the land; ghostly our going;
fallen like spears the hand dropped in the throwing.
We are the lost who went, like the cranes, crying; hunted, lonely and spent broken and dying. ~ The Waradgery Tribe