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]