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


Written by Northern_Soul (-Missy-)
Published
Author's Note
Letters to the Old Ways
20/30
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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