N/A Poem by Malcolm McGill

The tower straightens its silver stone back once more
and I have not to ask whom the bell tolls for.

The flowers wilt, 'ere it tis the last time I am sure
And they wilt because they know whom the bell tolls for.

Innocence is broken into the silence that now roars
And it is from that roar, that i know whom the bell tolls for.

Ring on, and sing my life as what was never wore
No Golden Fleece, no crown of dignity, doth this bell toll for.

I walk a one lane path now, without the bullet I bore
And I have not to ask whom the bell tolls for.