A Hero
By Kourin Lucrece
Disclaimer: I do not own Braveheart.
Freedom.
That one word has driven countless Scotts to their deaths. They followed a man, outnumbered, barely armed and faced with almost certain defeat. Yet they did it for the one thing that all men deserve and they were not defeated. Too many dream, and too few receive. The Scottish people had long forgotten how to dream before that day.
Wallace gave them back that ability. He gave it to them with words. He gave it to them with actions. But most of all, he gave it to them with courage.
The people follow him willingly. They do not fight because a lord has ordered them to do so. They fight because they want to. Freedom has spoken to their hearts and given them hope. That is what they fight for. I could never give them what is rightfully theirs. Fear and the will of my father lead me. Wallace leads them.
He might have led me as well. His words helped me realize ideals that should be the truth of my country, my people. He spoke of a life where every Scott would gain the right to live. If only I had been capable of following my own heart, if only I had held the courage, I might have helped lead them to a much deserved victory.
Wallace should have slit my throat on that battlefield.
The look in his eyes when he recognized me will haunt me to the end of my days. This man trusted me to help him save an oppressed people, my people, and I abandoned him in his very hour of need. They might have won had the lords of Scotland not abandoned their vows. I abandoned my vows. What good is a crown if you do not care for the people it symbolizes?
As I walked upon the battlefield afterwards, it seemed an endless plain of bodies. It was as though I had stepped into the very bowels of hell. Mud squelched beneath my feet, wet not with water, but with blood. So many people dead – Scottish, Irish and British alike. Young and old faces denied life and liberty. Their blood stains my hands for all of eternity, for I may just as well have killed them with my own sword.
Looking at Wallace, many of the 'nobles' see only a madman driven by a grudge formed over the death of his wife. If they had only seen the passion in his eyes as he spoke of freedom, they would know the truth.
The simple truth was that of a single man who believed he could rise above the injustice and suffering caused by England. He was right. He began with only a few battered Scotts and an insane Irishman, yet he won the heart of our land.
He may have died, but Wallace brought a courage that few had ever believed existed in their hearts. Scotland will live to see it children in a world where they can raise families in freedom. The legacy of a hero lasts longer than that of a literal victor. For as long as any true Scott walks this earth, a single word will ring out forever.
"Freedom"
Want to hear the odd part? I wrote this after spending a day at the Tower of London... lol. Please review!!
By Kourin Lucrece
Disclaimer: I do not own Braveheart.
Freedom.
That one word has driven countless Scotts to their deaths. They followed a man, outnumbered, barely armed and faced with almost certain defeat. Yet they did it for the one thing that all men deserve and they were not defeated. Too many dream, and too few receive. The Scottish people had long forgotten how to dream before that day.
Wallace gave them back that ability. He gave it to them with words. He gave it to them with actions. But most of all, he gave it to them with courage.
The people follow him willingly. They do not fight because a lord has ordered them to do so. They fight because they want to. Freedom has spoken to their hearts and given them hope. That is what they fight for. I could never give them what is rightfully theirs. Fear and the will of my father lead me. Wallace leads them.
He might have led me as well. His words helped me realize ideals that should be the truth of my country, my people. He spoke of a life where every Scott would gain the right to live. If only I had been capable of following my own heart, if only I had held the courage, I might have helped lead them to a much deserved victory.
Wallace should have slit my throat on that battlefield.
The look in his eyes when he recognized me will haunt me to the end of my days. This man trusted me to help him save an oppressed people, my people, and I abandoned him in his very hour of need. They might have won had the lords of Scotland not abandoned their vows. I abandoned my vows. What good is a crown if you do not care for the people it symbolizes?
As I walked upon the battlefield afterwards, it seemed an endless plain of bodies. It was as though I had stepped into the very bowels of hell. Mud squelched beneath my feet, wet not with water, but with blood. So many people dead – Scottish, Irish and British alike. Young and old faces denied life and liberty. Their blood stains my hands for all of eternity, for I may just as well have killed them with my own sword.
Looking at Wallace, many of the 'nobles' see only a madman driven by a grudge formed over the death of his wife. If they had only seen the passion in his eyes as he spoke of freedom, they would know the truth.
The simple truth was that of a single man who believed he could rise above the injustice and suffering caused by England. He was right. He began with only a few battered Scotts and an insane Irishman, yet he won the heart of our land.
He may have died, but Wallace brought a courage that few had ever believed existed in their hearts. Scotland will live to see it children in a world where they can raise families in freedom. The legacy of a hero lasts longer than that of a literal victor. For as long as any true Scott walks this earth, a single word will ring out forever.
"Freedom"
Want to hear the odd part? I wrote this after spending a day at the Tower of London... lol. Please review!!