Led by a king, a youth not old
Confident, head strong, very bold
The Wolf symbol fluttered on fabric
The flag of freedom, for those who had it
The North and South had been at War
For a lifetime and more
A 1000 marched, to face their Hell
A 1000 marched, a 1000 fell
War is not won by sword and shield
And battles raging in an open field
War is won by ravens and parchment ink
Then everything changes within a blink
The drizzle from the clouds so grey
Turned to a down pour by midday
They marched under leaden skies
Hoods pulled up, to keep water from their eyes
Leaving footprints in the sunken soil
Down a path towards turmoil
Sun yes, silver lining no
Into War the 1000 go
Sons father husbands, free men
The Army of the Northmen
The Northman took shelter in a Lords keep
A place to rest their aching feet
The Southern army were a days march away
The King new this Lord, a friend they say
Food was brought to the table and ale in casks
The Lords men wore friendly masks
The Lord was a Allie to the Northmen
But never trust the hearts of men
Laughter came from their mouth
But two days back, a letter came from the south
"To Any Lords that bring down ten
Of those marching Northmen.
A land for each head, and Gold for each hand
I trust in this message you understand?"
This particular Lord, could not believe his eyes
When the Northern Army sought shelter from the skies
He pulled the King close, and embraced in jest
Guests they were, friends and allies to the Wolfs Crest
But a 1000 men, was Gold and Land
This Lord, did understand
The poison in the succulent lamb and Wine
Was about to show it's wrath in time
A 1000 drank and a 1000 fed
Around the table, lay a 1000 dead!
