Road to Glenfinnan

I walked with a man

on the road to Glenfinnan

Through healing hills

and by cleansing lochs.

He spoke too much,

this man at my side,

Cursing and tainting

the peaceful Scot morn.

The Highlands echoed

with his jests and his pain,

The ragged story of

his lost life’s - love.

I grew tired of his chatter,

constant since Glasgow.

I drew my sword

and slew him there.

I left his body

along with his story,

his chatter and grief,

on the road to Glenfinnan.