Grim men in ages past
kept watch from these heights
Now only the wind
keeps this lonely vigil
The lines of the ramparts
still to be seen
their pride now tempered
by the passing of time
Weapons lay rusting
in forgotten places
The shields have rotted
these men are no more
None now remember
the burning of the gates
the shattered palisades
the heaps of carrion

Rain lashed gorse spikes
a blanket of elk-sedge
the seeds of protection
carried by storms
Too late for the wounded
who bled in the ditches
to be covered in elk-sedge
grim orphans of death
Pits of pride and war
beneath the footfalls
of weakling spectators
who knew us no more
Weapons lay rusting
in forgotten places
The shields have rotted
in heaps of carrion

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