deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hymn to Plunderers
When I think of all who have come
to rape this land of its bounties
vikings
romans
tories
I wonder if the land itself
is where we learn
our Britishness:
we do not crumble
in the taking of treasures,
we thrive in times
of deep agony
healing over
and over again
just as she
was pillaged
robbed
sacrificed
in the name of
gold & greed.
There’s a lot to be said
about the spirit of place
how to be British
is to be made of steel
born of wounded earth
baptised in warrior blood
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