Ireland
By Cinderella
This land it is my freedom. This land it is my soul. This land is my Holy. This land makes me whole. This place once of anguish, fighting was our fate. Now resounds with love and family, not a breeze of war or hate. This land is my freedom. This land it is my soul. This land is my Holy. This land makes me whole. These hills rolled with history and scripture, the castles full of contempt and silent ghosts. The land a mighty graveyeard, the inner hills to the coasts. This land is my freedom. This land it is my soul. This land is my Holy. This land makes me whole.=) Written April 5th, 2002 © on Apr 05 2002 04:02 AM PST 10 • 0
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"This land it is my freedom...."