Dark ink flows through trembling hands,

telling of doom in distant lands

with hate as fuel and tyranny it’s goal,

the ink seeks to blacken the brightest soul.


The sands of time blow soft through the dunes,

sullied and tarnished in darkened rooms

as eyes so black and hate stained hearts

seek to tear the very world apart


A hot wind blows across our lands as

we shield our eyes with blistering hands

but the sand is so potent that it slowly erodes

every house and building, path and road.


The ink that flows ever close behind

congealing like blood as it colours our land,

a stain that defies, no matter how hard we try

to cleanse our skin, it simply blisters and dies.


The land is dying, the crops are all sick and

we are slowly suffocating on air now so thick.

The ink has seeped through our minds, to the core,

straight into our veins and through every pore.


Devouring all we’ve come to believe,

its aim, to demand destroy and deceive.

Total control of the lives we once knew,

propaganda so thick that its sticks like glue.


The ink now flows over lock and weir,

spreading its vile and putrid fear

through village and towns across the land

with nothing and nobody left to defend.


But hush!

There in the distance is a lonesome growl

and another one, protesting the ink, oh so foul.


More and more the growl can be heard

over valleys and plains as feelings are shared.

Pounding ground beneath marching feet

as the pride is gathering; feel their heat.


The once quiet growl has become a great roar,

rattling windows from shore to shore

as a slumbering giant is roused from its sleep

from down in deep dungeons where they tried to keep.


Nothing can withstand this powerful beast,

not man or mountain or sand from the east.

Roaring loud along the streets and lanes

the lions are awake and marching again.


Pushing back the ink and its hideous odour

revealing green grass and beautiful flowers.

Back up the rivers, over lock and weir,

making their presence felt, people now cheer.


The ink has receded back over the sea’s,

never again to spread its foul deeds.


The lions roar from coastal lines,

a wall of pride that will never decline.

Britain is free and is Great once more

as the sunlight glistens on her sandy shores.



Written by Darren Scanlon, 29th May 2014

Revised 2nd May 2015.

©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.


10 Comments Add yours

  1. LadyBlueRose's Thoughts Into Words says:

    expressive in the words and heartfelt in the deliverance of them…
    i really like your thoughts….Thank you for sharing with us
    Take Care…You Matter…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you M’Lady

      Liked by 1 person

      1. LadyBlueRose's Thoughts Into Words says:

        You’re Welcome 🙂


  2. Your poem so moved me. All of my children have served their country. I have written verses about war – my perception of it through their letters, emails, and phone calls; but this piece would move one with no connection to military or war. It is powerful and elegant at the same time. Thanks so much for posting it.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sharon, I write words for myself initially and once I like them I release them into the wild to hopefully reach others in one way or another.

      To have reached and touched you in such a profound way is more then I could ever have wished for and I thank you so much for your kind words.

      You should be proud of your children as I’m sure you are for they deserve Pride And Respect from everybody.



  3. philbo62 says:

    Droplets of concentration enshrine every gallant line.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you my friend.


  4. This is a powerful, heartfelt poem

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Katherine.


      1. melindajabersold says:

        Very deep and heartfelt!

        Liked by 1 person

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