How it must have been to come over those hills,
green swells draped in mist
like a bride in silk.
How she must have seemed ripe,
ready and waiting at an altar
to pledge obedience and bounty.
This bride, though,had not chosen
such a husband.
From beneath her dress
and in the shadows of her valleys
she drew a sword more steel than theirs
and burned their visions to the ground
as she bled them,
their dead the blood on the sheets of a
marriage.