the old road, albion way, via britannica

Via Britannia

There is a way, a well-trodden way
That winds under forests and meadows of hay
Under grim cities and lackluster towns
For ten thousand years, the road was renowned
It stood through the Stone Age, the Bronze and the Iron
It stood through the plague when the folk were dyin'
Roman and Saxon, Norman and Viking
Albion's vein was much to their liking
In a tunnel of darkness, the road was a light
With beacons and milestones to guide through the night
Fosse way, King Street, Watling and Ermine
The road lingered on while Rome was burnin'
Whitewashed castles and ornate wooden halls
Under blue sky and grey, the road witnessed all
But then came the end with Albion's bane
The road was reduced to a cul-de-sac lane
And then it was forgotten and became overgrown
But the heart still beats - the heart of stone
And like the famous Grail, it awaits to be found
As the dead king sleeps in the burial mound
One day the Britons will return to their wits
The road unearthed and the beacons relit.

© Severn Dwyer. 2016

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