Holocaust of The Highlands

Highland clans stood ready
To defend, with their lives
Ancient ancestral lands
From invading British forces
With all that they possessed, and
With fierce Highland pride
They charged superior numbers
Grape & cannon balls ripped thru
Flesh, bone and tartans
Washing the Heather & Gorse
With crimson blood…
That would never leave this place
Onward, Highland Charge for their way of life
Lands, pride, history and culture
Claymores, dirks and axes
Found avenging marks, and
Foreign blood was spilled…
Highlanders died that day:
April 16th, 1746, Culloden Moor
They died a warrior’s death
Some lay mortally wounded
Upon fallen clansmen, on blood-soaked grass
The battle field became eerily quiet
Three horse & riders walked on to the scene
In the safety of his surroundings
The British invader Cumberland (Butcher of Culloden)
Gave the order: “give no quarter.” (take no prisoners)
Wounded warriors were put to death

It was then, I sat up, badly wounded, Colonel Charles Fraser,
Hatred I felt gave me strength, our eyes locked!
I needed to kill this coward, pretend soldier,
Avenging my fallen comrades
The butcher ordered Captain Wolfe to slay me, but
He refused, for he was a warrior like me
I stood, and raised my claymore,
Fraser Highland blood ran down my arm
I started my death walk towards this imposter
Cumberland ordered a ground soldier, to kill me,
His voice sounded like that of a frightened child
My steel-blue-eyes unlocked but a moment
As I watched the bullet enter my Highland chest
I smiled, as my soul was above the battlefield
Knowingly, we would be back again
To reclaim the Highlands, our home…always!
My life blood drained into the soil
Intermingling with roots of Thistles
There I would always remain,
Home in my Scottish Highlands
Those who fled, tracked down and murdered
Those who gave aid, were murdered
Cowardly invaders marched onward
To sacred Highland towns,
Burning, murdering, raping, women and children
The genocide of the Highlands began
The ancient Galic language & customs
Forbidden on pain of death
The Days of Grey were upon the fairy-lands
Nothing remained the same, the
Highland Clearances, had begun…
The heart & soul of Scotland
Replaced for British and lowland lords, could
Graze their sheep, upon the sacred hills, of
Fairies, elves and good witches
No more would the little-people sing & dance
For the warrior-poets were slain
Protecting kith and kin, and
The universe mourned a thousand years.
(Captain Wolfe became General Wolfe, and
Died, on the Plains of Abraham, Canada,
He fell dead into the arms of a Highlanders regiment.
It was never forgotten that he refused to kill
Lt. Colonel Charles Fraser, on that battlefield.
The Frasers/Highlanders, always fought with Wolfe.)
I am 2nd Lieutenant Charles Alexander Fraser (we are ready).