Slowly it seems, the "Mills of Gods Grind."
It's been Fifteen hundred years past, since the dark fight of our ancestors line.
Thence their bloody death held the terror, gripped in their hearts,
For the hour was upon them still, but too tear their lands apart.
Fought as they did, through their strife and their pain,
Trying hard too keep, all of what they had gained.
And the Seer said,
"Go forth I say. For your future will be here always to stay."
"It grows in the line of your children's child, thus will it be heard by this voices in wild."
"Go forth and slay," the Seer said.
"For their bodies will be in their hold on Scotland's Hills,
Ever will they be stay safe by their accounts so bold!"
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Slowly, The Mills of Gods Grind #watty2018 #featured #complete
Historical Fiction#random historical fiction of ancestors in Scotland https://my.w.tt/UiNb/qAdGEZF0eH
