Winds of One Thousand Winters

Clouds darken and dampen My spirit
As My brow bows low
While My eyes see only earth
The engraining of furrows on My soul
Feels as though the winds of one thousand winters
Have hacked away whatever life existed
Within My now battered link
To the world of Donn
He calls
But not for Me to follow
He calls out
Storms of support for My cause
He calls out storms
Which feed But dying embers
That grow slowly from the ash
Which had threatened to engulf
And rise
Rise to flames
Which burn
Which burn the dead wood
Onward, yes onward comes the bellowing cries
Which resounds through the hills
As the stag roars in triumph
Once again he will rise, a Rí­ of the South
And with him will rise the hope of the Gael
Embrace the new with purpose and vigor
Revive the old and condemn Gall Glassa