Waiting
Drip upon drip, in the darkness of tunnels,
Rebounding, resounding, with sinister flair.
Cold. Oh so cold, are the caves that are lifeless,
And stagnant and stale, with no chance of fresh air.
Above us the weight of centuries enfold us.
Sealing our tomb, from the brightness of day.
Chilling our bones, with it’s frozen caresses,
And echoing drips lull all senses away.
But here as we wait in the deepness and darkness.
We await our release, as mythology tells.
Of Hero’s and Martyr’s, return to the living,
To fight for folks freedom, from the forces of hell.
To fight the corruptness, and guide the misguided,
To answer the summons of past histories call.
So we wait here in silence, and wait for our moment.
When we answer the prophecies, to answer the call.
Sheelanagig
