Wallace's War –
Disclaimer: I do not own, 'Brave heart.' And I don't own William Wallace, he's his own guy.
Watching as the sun does sink,
Giving the soldiers time to think,
About the battle of that day.
Every man holding up,
Weapons that will slay and cut,
Their enemies lying low.
Over mountain, and in a tower,
Follows who never cower,
Chasing after Wallace's war.
He heard of his from afar,
Peasant lad that has no mare,
Wishing for excitement, and fore lore.
Searching in the crushed field,
Where the ended battles did yield,
Following the trail to his hero.
Hear rumors of a defeat,
The boy does not listen, will not repeat,
That there is loss in Wallace's war.
Captured is the watchman's word,
A word the boy wishes he hadn't heard,
Wallace is headed for the scaffold.
Praying, wishing he may live,
Hoping it is an Englishmen's jive.
But it is now lie, and is no jest,
He hears the words from a dying man's breast,
The war is over, Wallace's war.
The boy goes on, ever searching,
For his hero, stomach lurching,
Hoping he isn't too late.
When he reaches the execution,
He sees the man, of black retribution,
Ready to kill Wallace on the block.
The boy watches on as they lead him out,
William Wallace, the people give a shout,
Happy of the end of Wallace's war.
The rebel is hanged, and then cut down,
Tied to the block, where in his own blood he will drown,
As the knife comes down to cut his entrails.
His insides burned, the boy can't breath,
As at his limbs the knife cuts and seethes,
His limbs are taken off and thrown.
The boy watches as his head,
His leader's head, his hero is dead.
His head is thrown upon the ground.
The boy watches in terror,
He pulls out locks of hair.
The end, the end of Wallace's war.