The Lion's Will

In eighty-four, a life began, Within the lines of a royal clan. From King John’s hand and Dudley’s grace, A history carved in time and space. I walked the wards when days were dim, With "everlasting" thoughts of him— The spirit of the ones who stood, To claim the rights of common good. Tyranny reaps what it has sown, A truth my ancestors have known. From Runnymede to Iowa’s soil, We prize our liberty through toil. Mother held the sacred key, Of forty years of loyalty. A "heaven-sent blessing" on this earth, To claim a crown by right of birth. The lions roar within the blood, Through fire, brimstone, and the flood. Time may die, but truth will stay, For where there is a will, there is a way.