[UnbornBuddha]

Long ago, the Chief Elder spoke of a prophecy
Foreseeing omens that will hold our souls under sovereignty;
Our foes will arrive in strange boats forming colonies
They’ll appear helpless but will do unheard atrocities.
Through us, they will learn astronomy
And through them, we will learn of sodomy.
We, the Nazca, have observed many of nature’s anomalies
Fathoming them all by using this universe’s cosmology,
The macrocosmic property that made Earth a conscious being!
Despite this, we’re fated to be reborn in the serpent’s odyssey
A curse that will put our civilization at its mercy constantly
It is said: when a gargantuan red meteor makes the sky bleed
Fate will be cast, and our lionhearted race will die diseased;
We’ll be defeated by divine decree.

It is as the ancients said, they’ve come!
And they offer blankets as alms
Perhaps, we can be brothers in arms
Maybe we misjudged them
For they haven’t uttered any harm.

Days later,
Unbearable sickness has swept my people
Their skin boils & suppurates this deadly evil.
I’m afraid these outsiders meant for this to happen,
It feels like all our major organs are reactive
The children impacted from it, crawl to them for help
They scoff and say: “We’re HERE to send you to hell!”
Our only hope is to survive the pathogen
But, the prophecy already has decided adamantly
That our life isn’t adequate…
We can’t fight when we can’t define the antigens.

Hopelessness,
It’s like being deprived of your psyche’s oxygen
And then mentally forced into a violent catalyst
But, we’re no match, they have giant battleships
Equipped with behemoth cannons that breach our palace.
My whole family has disappeared underneath the madness,
The pile of ashes that are steeped in sadness
A scene you can only imagine if disaster your daily companion.
These barbaric demigods didn’t even give our babies compassion
Without flinching, their captain gave the order to flay them with contraptions
Their religious saviors sanctioned to be used on their slaves and their captives.
Fear mongrels that tongue every name of anguish, found in any language
I can see it now, their eyes burn with the flame of passionate desire
To access and acquire our sacred practices, so they’ll ascend even higher.

After the bloodbath, some of us were spared
The only event summary is despair.
But, the elder said: “Even in its most dismal darkest nights
The larva will climb out its old carcass and become a butterfly;”
Metamorphosis, where our heart’s light will start to shine
Creating a bridge that will reach those in the afterlife
Bringing them back, so they can etch the Nazca lines.