Of William Wallace,and Jeanne D' Arc

Farmer and Peasant girl were you,

Lad strong and lassie frail,

Oppressed and decreed,

A hundred Years of Tyranny your Only Birthright..

Yet somewhere In you Glowed bright The power

Of Humanity and Thirst for freedom,

You lusted for life,and You fought

To pay your debts,to country

And people,a populace of Lackeys,

Of Patriots,and those In between..

You stoked in 'em The embers of your

Fire Divine,you fed 'em Hope,

You Gave 'em thrust,

And Victory after Victory pronounced,

Gave you as gifts to your

Man and Woman and Child...

And persecution You feared not,

Neither of Traitor nor of Witchhood,

The world Forgets you sometimes,

And you dwell in the past of forgotten

Passion,Lost in crumpled parched

Books,torn and frayed,

With underliners,and Bookmarks,

And Scribbled Q&A's,One must Know

The Battle of Stirling, The Siege

Of Orleans,The burning,The torture,

Five marks allotted for that,FIVE marks,Imagine.....

Marks and books,Your fate gentleman and Milady,

There You rest,

And I cry silent tears,

In my heart of hearts,and Pledge allegiance,

Wish I were In your ranks,fighting beside you

To lift this tyranny upon us....

There William Wallace,and Jeanne D' Arc,You

Remain,in the hearts of us patriots,

Of Life,and Liberty profound,

Knowing Nor Country,nor Profession,Nor

Skin,None but a cause and The Humanity,

Which Sharpened your Spurs,

Who try to live your dreams,and cry out,

For Freedom,And your Immortal souls guide us,

As we rally around you,diminshed and

Outnumbered,but undaunted in Passion or mettle,

We Roar out,and we hold ready our swords,spears

Pens and Spirits..

Cry out..We forget you not,Heroes of Yore,

But await your command,to resume the fight

Where you left off.....