That which turns youth to age, soil to sand and life to death.

I strike a pack,
Against the one; who makes us weak,
Who turns us bleak; easy to seek.
Though it may never speak,
You find it does so often reap!

We must all beat, beat, beat;
Against the one who makes us bleat,
Who turns us grey,
With every passing day.
This one we must slay!

A faceless beast,
So full of nothing.
A trackless beast,
On souls it feasts;
This one must rest in peace.

Let us strike a pack,
Against the one of darkness & dread;
So many are lost,
So many are dead:
Will power; Sheds light ahead!!!

In remembrance of my Grandad Cole.

Written to this Clannad - Coinleach Glas An Fhómhair.
Whilst walking with my dad and Tess near pinks farm.

Clannad - Coinleach Glas An Fhómhair.