Warrior of the Clann

Who among us would be wise?
the armor of certainty hides the path;
gifts given that cannot grow.

A great repeating pain befalls;
when evil tares the daughter down;
the clann will not again tell their tales.

No one else can turn this tide;
alone against the endless storm;
my father stands to guard the gate.

For My Daughter
David Morris
© 2006