The Sons Of Escultana... Poem by Saint Cynosure

A city once beside the sea,
In a peaceful bliss tranquilty.
Stood strong and proud 400 years,
until the roar of war brought tears.
When all the sons dawned sword and gun,
and marched with fear toward the sun.
Has trumpets played and souls were laid,
In mulititudes of unmarked graves.
The city streets like rivers flowed,
from women's tears both young and old.
And the stones record the battle yells,
stained by blood from the men who fell.
The tide turned red just has the sun,
the ships weren't burnt and the town had won.
Now a statue stands of gold to honor,
All the sons of Escultana...