The two lovers ran,
A savage princess and a pale-faced man.
They didn't stop; they couldn't.
They ran to hide their forbidden love,
Praying they would not be pursued,
Because what else could they do?

They said it would be absurd,
A scandal too dark to be heard.
So they kissed in the shadows,
They loved beneath the moon,
Because the sun was too honest at noon.

A son of a rich, white man,
In love with a woman of the land.
Beautiful and fierce was she,
The princess of the Cherokee.

Their families could not understand.
Because love was a fallacy,
They refused to comprehend.
It could not exist in reality.
They took the necessities to survive,
But they ceased to feel alive.
And so their children ran,
To escape their parents' bitter irony.

As they ran, they grew tired,
But their love moved them forward.
Until they were assaulted by
A band of wandering thieves.

They said, “Give us all your silver,
And we will spare you your lives.
But if you try to make a move,
We won't think twice.”

“Alas, we have no great silver,” said he,
As he hid her behind his back.
“Give us your word you'll let us go free,
And you may take whatever we have.”

“Why should I not shoot you right here?”
Said the leader of the band of thieves.
“Whatever town may be is nowhere near,
And my men will bring you to your knees.”

“There be no need to kill me,” said he in return.
“Have you not enough reason to cast off to hell?
Take what I have, it is for you to discern.
On our way we will go, not a soul will we tell.”

The robber chuckled, more to himself than the others,
“Indeed, I have committed many condemning acts,
Though I have no problem adding another.
But if you throw in this striking creature, perhaps
We will consider sparing you for your Indian lover”

Hooting and howling came forth from the gang,
And the man acted upon his chance.
He leaped before his foes and shot with a bang!
Three down, then four, and still nine remained.

He fought with the dexterity of twenty men,
He hit with precision at every angle he could.
It seemed he would win, had it not been
For the man hiding within the wood.

He continued to fight, not knowing of the bullet,
Which had found its way too close to his heart.
He fell to the ground, energy spent to the fullest.
He uttered not a single word.

He watched the blood drip from his fingers,
Both astonished and curious at the sight.
He heard a scream and saw the fear in her eyes,
He heard her weep, “Not right, it's not right...”

One of them grabbed her and took her away.
“No!” she shrieked, “No, no, no!”
She kicked and clawed, determined to stay,
And finally ran him through with her dagger.
Before another came at her,
And soon she had killed that one, too.

Another came, another dead.
She picked the rest off with her knives.
Her fury blazing through the men,
Until she had ended their pathetic lives.

Suddenly the anger left her and she fell to the ground.
She felt the sticky, warm blood on her hands.
With horror she witnessed the destruction around.
She screamed her anguish and bitterness into the air.

All was silent; the air dense with death.
She wept at the waste,
She wept bitterly with regret.
And when she could cry no longer,
She fell to the side of her dead lover.