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a poem about a story of Stonehenge |
The Mystery In the land of Britain where topaz sunsets are seen stands a monument of stones near a craggy ravine. Known as a wonder for no one knows how they came some speculate by aliens, other's think it's God's claim. We, the Neo-Druids certitude why they're there For we are the ones who built them, this we can declare. I, a Neo-Druid, have a memoir to tell My clan and I lived over in the closer dell. Stonehenge is built in the essence of the core the purpose it was built was for the powers it stored. For the powers of the universe unite in the center and restores the healing of all who dare to enter. I was once a troubled soul, and on one lonely night, the devil entered me and set about his plight. I murdered several souls within my lonely hollow. By morning my dread began with tears and sorrow to follow. I stood before the ravine with my head drooped in shame For there was no one else that I could possibly blame. As I was about to jump a man grabbed my wrist Then several others came, there to assist. They took me to the quarters for my trial began. I was indeed found guilty, for I was seen first-hand. Next I was taken to the very middle of Stonehenge. Tied to the center pillar I was left for weeks impinged. One stormy night the thunder rolled in darkened forlorn skies Down came one bright striking light before my very eyes. The lightning struck each and every stone in colours of green. Then it struck my pillar and my body careened. When I awoke before me stood an angel in white She told me not to worry that I would be alright. Now you know my story and stonehenge's mystery Hopefully this story will go down in history. |