An Ancient Sword
By Hannah Briggs
I saw it glistening in the moonlight,
Not even the clouds cast a shadow upon this ancient blade.
The stars danced across its blade
As I lifted it from its dewy grave
Not knowing what story this sword beheld…
Its hilt was of mahogany wrapped in leather
The cross guard inlaid with precious stones,
Along its blade, of Damascus steel, ancient runes had been inscribed
In an old form of Gaelic unknown to man.
As I gazed upon this ancient weapon
I saw visions of battles fought long ago
Full of darkness, loneliness and death.
In the midst of blood and confusion,
I heard the shrieks of horse as their riders fell to the earth.
Brave men, young and old died beneath the steel of this ancient sword
Visions of burning villages and ruins of castles swept by.
Sorrowing mothers, lovers, and sisters shed tears
For those now lost forever to the wrath of that relic of death.
After years of miseries, happiness, victories and defeat
This sword of terror fell to the earth in a single bloody battle
Never to be raised against another again.
It lay in where it fell.
Travellers took no notice of it and ordinary men dared not touch it.
Years passed by and finally it caught the interest of a young hero…
I turned my head upwards away from the sword to gaze at the sky
All clouds had vanished leaving a clear vista of the moon in the vast sea of stars
Then and there I decided to give that ancient sword a new history.
A history of heroism and good deeds.
