The “Old Ones”

The ‘Old Ones’ beat their sagging chest;

they seek an enemy they can best.

But they won’t fight, they are too old;

The blood in them has long run cold.

So, now, they’ll sacrifice their child;

dream of the days when they ran wild.

They fought in battles long and hard;

returning home forever scarred.

And now their children, proud and free,

torn like their fathers they soon will be.


About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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