Tuesday, 14 October 2008

The Broken Sword of William Wallace

With a grunt from his hand
Flew the sword of his king
It soared through the sky
With a powerful swing
It flew with control
That was unknown to man
With a “whoosh” and a “thud”
And a quivering land
The silence was power
The meaning was flawless
And there sat the sword
Of William Wallace

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