The family motto suits me fine

or it just may mean the battle

is never over, that along the way

and through shrouded dusk

will come stomping feet

over heather and gorse, through thick blood

and soothing mud that clogs the lungs

and in which only the sweet faint smell

of whisky will revive;

Aut Pax Aut Bellam

is the mournful cry

of slashing swords and muted dying words

faint hearted upon the lips of former giants

as their world is disarmed by blunted weapons