The Battle Cry

It was those days, where pride was overcome with ready joy,

as they restlessly paced the hills,

keeping a weary eye on the red that should soon come,

that would flood their home and try to bury their hope.

Nay though!, we shall never give it up,

we shall be the mighty men who fight,

with one hand hold the scale and the other the sword.

Rise in understanding that we shall never give in,

to the word 'defeat' at such a time.

Let our children know the sweet taste of freedom,

and be able to look out of their windows with pride.

Let them lend helping hands with out fear.

Swing your sword with furious manner!

Let them know what we have inside,

let them see the truth shall set us free!

Rise in the early morning,

prepare yourself for this powerful battle against them.

We can not rest, no, we can not rest.

We can only fight for those we love.

Fight my men, fight my army,

fight for this land we have claimed our own.

Ready your arms and ready your self,

battle is on the horizon,

let us not fear, for the good shall always conquer,

in God's name!

God Bless us all and see us through,

all my people,

this is a poem for you.

LIA