Rage

Onward I fight
To free my lady MacLean
She was captured
Stolen from me
My rage
Overcomes my sight
Turning the sky
Bloodshot red
Turning every drop of rain
Into a drop of blood
Turning the shadows
Into death
Turning every puddle
Into a pool of blood
Turning the enemy
Into a decapitated corpse
Leaving a trail of blood
In my wake
As I march my armies
Across Scotland
In the year 1509
To where she’s held captive
To the dungeon
Where she’s held prisoner