What price did you pay for my freedom?
What damage did it bring?
For my freedom, you life lost...
For my freedom, your love bled...
For my freedom, such a high cost...
For my freedom, your heart led...
The land ran red with the rain,
The blood the burden for me.
By The Raven's Pen
The Words Of The Raven
I have a bit of a Celtic soul,
I walk taller when the feel of
Caledonia and Eire in my soul.
I will write of freedom,
I will write of anger against
The beginnings of Oppressions,
Oh, who am I kidding, I will write
Whatever I feel like writing about
My favorite places where
Heather covers the mountains,
Green grass grows along the hills,
And the little people and fae hide
From mortal man.....
I hope you enjoy!
Untitled
Across a land filled with history, I catch a glimpse of its soul.
They cry out from many points through time.
The same words come from lips long cold.
Whispering in the morning mists and through the chill of night.
"Peace", they call.
"Freedom", they cry.
Yet, there is something else you can hear...
It is what they tell the world to do.
"Learn from us and believe."
Freedom
In Days Of Old
There once was a world of belief, where warriors fought for naught but honor.
There once was a world where life had a meaning; freedom.
There once was a world of gallantry and languages lost among the mountains and locks.
There once was a world where merriment came but once in a while as man strived to make peace in a world of chaotic reason.
There once was a world where kings and queens where thought to be absolute, no matter the right or wrong of their reign.
There once was a world of great meaning, where has it all gone? Why has honor been lost?
-Raven
6 August, 1998
Eire Calls
I hear you calling to my Celtic heart,
Find my name, search my soul....
I hear you cry out to my my Gaelic spirit,
You know my name, you know who we are...
I hear you say my the Fae words,
Come, to the hills, you know the way...
I hear you say in my Pagan ears,
You know my green, you have walked my paths....
I hear you call to my Gaelic heart,
You know the song that's always calling you home....
I hear you call to my Celtic heart,
Once again, come my child,
Come to the land of Eire.....
~Raven
16 June 2008
Bonnie Prince
I stand on this misty moor,
And I am terrified...
Yet you have asked me
To be here, you called me
And I came, Bonnie Prince.
My heart races, I feel it in
My bones, it is the call
For honor, for freedom,
But is that the truth?
Are we here for Alba, Bonnie Prince?
I should be home, and protecting
My loved ones, and yet
Here I am to face my death
In a battle I know I cannot win
I do this for you, Bonnie Prince...
How I would love to go back
To finish my planting,
Kiss my wife and hold my bairns,
Once again in this life.
Do you understand me Bonnie Prince?
For Alba's lore and law
I have come forth to protect
For life and liberty I would want.
Is this for peace Bonnie Prince?
For your vanity my life
I lay down, my blood
To be shed, my honor will
Lay shattered upon this
Cold damp earth, Bonnie Prince.
Your reasons are your own.
Vanity, greed, it matters not,
For I will go forth with dignity
For I don't do this for you.
I do this for Alba, Bonnie Prince.