The past may be forgotten,
but it is never dead.
A once poetic emblem,
now sacrificed by higher heads.
The freedom of a nation,
fought so brave and hard.
But now we sit and wait
to be enslaved by our own guard.
The sight and the sense of the druids
sends a chill down the spine.
Ne'er a word is uttered,
and never a light does shine.
A snare so strong to take over the life
of the people of our world.
But now we sit and wait,
as our country enters peril.
Death is looming near.
Reject the thoughts we fear.
Embrace to poisin kiss.
For this is our abyss...
