This poems is in memory of my ancestors who died fighting for their country Scotlands. In myth warroirs who died in battle returned as flowers of the forest.
Amongst beams of silver moonlight Brave men roam the bitter night Swords close at hand, prepared to fight Soon as quary is in sight Longshanks men took our lands Burned villages, murdered clans At the wicked ruler's comains Blood of innocent stains his hands This be the hour now Attack! Fight hard lads dont look Back! Mornin' breaks over the moor Dark from the blood and gore Ye brave lads who went to war Rest as forest flowers forever more
Ziska · Mon May 30, 2005 @ 01:03am · 6 Comments |