Sons of Soil
Dark fate crept in guise and stole our Sun,
Scattering slavery’s penumbra,
A nation was enslaved to suffer.
Some wild mad yet brave sons rose from dust,
Displaying boisterous attitude,
To rescue her twilight from abyss.
Orb we tread was once blood soaked, where now,
Warriors underneath convalesce,
Walk softly, let fallen be asleep.
Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!