The land remembers every scar, Every step, both near and far. Snow and stone and frozen ground Hold the names they tried to drown. We are born of wind and need, Of sharpened breath and will to bleed. The cold did not erase our fire, It taught us how to endure, not tire. They came with iron, flame, and claim, They carved their borders, spoke new names. But ice still sings what once was true, And spirits stayed when nations grew. We carry wrath both old and deep, Not for conquest, not for keep. But for the blood that stained the land And the broken songs we still withstand. Survival is our sacred vow, Endurance carved into the now. We do not fade. We do not yield. We outlast steel. We outlast time. The wind still speaks our ancestors’ call, The snow still hears, remembers all. We stand. We remain. The frozen path Is still our name.
