[WARRIORS WORDS]

[WARRIORS WORDS]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS SCRIBE...THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED TO ME IN 1996
http://youtu.be/eaQW5jWMu8Y

One day as I lay on the face of a mountain in Georgia a vision came to me.
I dont know if it was the pipe of peace that had passed between I and my fellow travelers or the opening of another dimension.
I feel asleep as I watched the river at the base of the mountain as it wound along...I saw the gleaming towers of Atlanta in the distance. 
I opened my eyes and watched as four Indians rode up to me.
The thundering hooves of the horses that they rode struck dust from the rock that was the surface of the mountain and all that was now seemed to fade away.
I saw the flaring of the horses nostrils as they pulled at the reins and brought them to bay...rearing and majestic.
They were not dressed like the Dime store indians that you see standing with a damn cigar in their hands beckoning and imploring you to step inside.
Spend some money.
No, these were warriors.
One of them spoke to me and although I had never heard a word of the language that he spoke I overstood the words that came from his mouth as if I were born to them.
He talked to me of the pact that was made by his people on this very mountain when a strange people landed on the distant shores to the north and of how they fought with every ounce of strength that they had.
How this man called them savage as he raped the land and the people.
He talked to me of millions of souls lost in the span of a generation.
Silenced in death.
His words resonated in the depths of my being and I was with him as babies died at the tip of swords...as elders fell to rise no more.
He warned me of what inaction could do in the face of pure evil.
Of the tricks that would be used.
Day seemed to exist no more as the clouds sped up and raced across the sky that we traveled in...on.
He showed me my people as they lingered in camps that were meant to contain in a not so distant future if we failed to grow...to respond.
Concentrated and manipulated.
Beaten into submission.
He and his brothers took my hand and showed me this same mountain as men in white sheets formed what was to be the greatest klan on earth.
One that would crush the spirits of every man of color it touched.
A burning cross burnt into the very membranes of the african psyche.
A bridge that had to be crossed before we were free of the fear of being free.
A vision that blasted the doors of reality wide open.
We arrived at the point that we had met and he looked at me for a moment and I saw the tears that graced his cheeks.
My brothers saluted me and turned their horses to the falling sun and rode away in a cloud of dust and fading hoofbeats as I arose.
I awoke to the sounds of the world as it slipped back into now and rose from my place.
To descend from the heights of a mountain dream.
Step by step.