Indianer

all the teepees lie in the valley
everything in the shy light of the morning sun
wrapped up in glitter of the river
hoofs of deer dance clinking on the tent poles moved by soft wind

but nobody is there

it is the land of dreams
but the dreamers were hunted away
it is the land of freedom
but the people was captured

it was
and everything is destroyed

nothing more
maybe there are still souls and spirits, who are seeking for this place

or everything is gone
silent rain falls