|
There stood the Lanark man
His armor
shining bright
Fearsome
war axe in his hand
Forcing
the English to flight
He
storms the Stirling battlefield
Slashing
his bloody blade about
The
fiery tempest he does wield
In his
muscled hands, none doubt
Warrior
after warrior do fall
Spreading his fury far and wide
Creating a
unstoppable wall
He
ravages the field refusing to die
As the
time passes by
His
legend spread like fires
While others wish him to die,
Some
call the storytellers liars
And
when the Falkirk battle starts
The
veteran warrior fights
And
when the arrows fly like darts
He falls,
diminished is his might
Jan 2009 |
