Solivagant Heart

A warrior stood on the ancient rocks of the
River, where the kinsmen before him were
Eliminated, where the native land sobbed in
Agony, and the sounds roared a sign of
Endless anguish.

The roamer climbed a steep cliff
That was once a place for contemplation
A place of dwelling and self-reflection
On the harrowing agony he had lived.

He could not ally, nor could he fight
He was only a stranger, a solitary
Mourner, he could only burn with
Revеnge, and enlighten thе raging spirit
Seeking for vengeance.

The top of the cliff be
His witness, as he
Wrote those words of
Struggle, the word he
Used as weapons for
Knights, against the
Marauders.

Strokes of his pen, for the
Mother's soil, who greeted him
Warmly, who gave him new
Breaths of hope, the wind, and the
Sounds of the universe, rejoice
With delight and the will to fight.

He made his move as he finished
With conviction engraved in his
Soul, to push forward the fights
For they shall free the native land
Off her shackles.