They pass in silence, under light of moon Ancient warriors sorrowful and grey In never-fading shame, yet no cries are heard, silently they pass Their one-eyed god is watching, as they pass through endless forests They came as warriors from the north, to claim our shores their own Enshrouded in lace mist, shields and armour earth stained The blood of their wounds, still as crimson as the day it flowed They are the norse men that failed Lost to time forever Their thirst for war as they came was unquenched at their failure When their dragons burned on our shores They were condemned to sleep beneath our starlit heavens...
[Inspired by the tale of Brian Boru (926-1014), king of Ireland, who died successfully defending his kingdom against the invading vikings at Clontraf 1014)] [J. Fogarty 12/12/96]
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