People of the Land

Sub-society among this world of wrong or right
The sweet perfume of incense carries prayers in the night
An open window frees the smoke of vengeance laced with spite
As messenger the wind will carry what it might

The wisdom of a thousand generations hand in hand
Bring secrets guarded with the lives of people of the land
So be it fate or destiny or power of desire
An element of earth and wind and water and of fire

Some people don't believe in what they do not understand
Traditional beliefs have always reigned with upper hand
Without expiration there are many who have died
Just coincidence perhaps or maybe hands that hide

Do what you will with the art of black or white
In this world a bond exists between a wrong and right
Natural laws and energies amidst the atmosphere
With disembodied souls of good but evil always near