The Cry
In disbelief the battle was lost,
what chicanary ,or spells were used,
The Tyrant with a smug smile,decalred what he would now do,
Slavery and possible death now has raised head,
Fear not my peole who survive this onslaught,
though weary and down summon the strength,
look to the oceans ,forests and plains,
there to gather and become as one tribe,
Shout to the oceans requesting help,
from the peoples of the seas with weapons keen,
they will rise like wraiths shadow like mist,
raising their shields and shaking fists,
Come to our aid and set us free,
Shout to the tall trees as they reach high,
bringing down the stormy skies,
washing away the enemies schemes,
Come to our aid and set us free.
Shout to the mountains rugged and strong,
never changing through endless time ,
sending snowy avalanches screaming down,
taking away sorrows and frowns.
Shout to the beings of light that shine,
make gain our land to be yours and mine,
sending avengers of spiritual mien,
expose the dark for what it is,
shallow and self centered full of lies,
blow away the clouds clear the skies,
Come to our aid and set us free.
a.p.mcintyre 8/11/2024.
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