Through famine and poverty, seeds were well planted
When the few people of the land were told to comply
They'd refused to do so, the struggle began in earnest
Men of the land had been devoured by the royal wars
The elders and young, were working the fields instead
When a widow, wore the armor and carried the sword
Of her slain husband and turned that sorrow into battle
She then led a stubborn resistance, the seeds bloomed
Those with power now shrunk back in fear, of justice
As the harvest of righteous anger brought them doom
