Nay Mair

Piercing sounds reflect poorly.
Radiating the now lost souls.
Hear the howling night folk.
They cry for what they do not know.

Recompense for past dues.
Signature of the forgotten.
Line upon lines hidden.
Too far in the distant past.

Taking back what is not theirs.
Only loveliness is left untouched.
Left for others to admire.
Strength beyond words unspoken.

Hear now the night fowl whisper.
Unwanted personages crawl in dark.
Their ward tossed to the wolves.
Scavenging for new livelihoods.

Hear, hear you begotten ones.
Told in the distant present.
We will shine upon the wicked.
Naught shall change our course.

Singings sung in lies.
Woven is their tempests snare.
Heeding what is unspoken.
Unlikely to break the spell.

Truth being our only ally.
We wait for this freedom yet.
Covered in unholy mire.
Waiting to be cleaned once mair.

Treading on weakened ground.
Unsteady our heads become.
Lightened this way soon will be.
When he takes back his rightful ward.

In silence we now wait.
The harshness of bitter words brittle.
Beating our ever beaten backs.
They will strike us nay mair.




Copyright 2010 Lauren Hall ©