Last born of the clan. First one to be free. Lived inside a house. Beneath the hanging tree. Loved them deadly nights. That chilled him to the bone. Words were cried at night. In unforgiving tones. Blood of his men was gone beneath snow. He picked up his knife and bow. Killer of Jonathan Low. Violence from without. And Anger from within. Crawling through the fields. Informing next to kin. They all turned their backs. But they all knew his name. And if he could return. They'd probably do the same. Blood of his friends was gone beneath snow. For all that I know he died. Killer of Jonathan Low. The blood of his friends was gone beneath snow. For all that I know he died. Killer of Jonathan Low