The Mercenary

There once was a man known as no- name

who’d fled home to pursue ill-gotten gains.

A soldier of fortune he became, to sow

bullets and bloodshed for his every foe.


He’d string them up and bleed them out,

Acting unburdened by conscience or doubt.

What drives a man to forsake his name?

To kill others?  For greed, or for shame?


Once  –  he’d had a family

Once  –  he’d known mercy.


Now, behind smoke-filled eyes…

He contemplates his own demise.

Free from fear and driven by rage

This man would never die in a cage.


He’s a lone wolf,

a gun for hire,

A wicked man,

rough-wrought in fire.

© K.N.Liddington



Oh, great city of Manchester!

How our hearts go out to her.

Tales of bloody devastation,

Can only defy our imagination.


Yet, in such times of fear,

Look and know we are here,

One community for good,

Peace and love understood.


Your pain echoes and is felt,

With the awful hand dealt,

Yet, your strength is louder,

The world feels your power.


Gone  –  but not forgotten.

Hurt  –  but not stopped.

Live on, Manchester and thrive!

Because terror we will survive.

© K.N.Liddington

Heed The Call Of The Wild



Heed the call of the wild,

Seek and discover Nature’s child,

Breathe in that salty wind,

As the shadow of our hearts rescind.

Feel the echoes and shivers,

As the gusts whip up the rivers,

Cobwebs of ache torn apart,

Here in the Scottish tempest’s heart.

Then in to the warm embrace,

Of a homely hearth, fire ablaze.

To sip on whisky and winter,

Content as our souls sinter.

© K.N.Liddington

The Man Carter

“Gold, everywhere, the glint of gold…”

In those dark caverns of old,

Saw the man, Carter –

Beyond time and farther…


Shadows reveal dark glistening eyes,

Of King Tut’s masked demise,

Amidst chariots and splendour,tutt

Lay the boy, once the Nile’s defender.


Warm wisps of invisible fumes,

As the uncovered old exhumes,

To startle the young souls of new,

Rumours of ancient times pierce through.


And so, the man Carter foresaw,

His mark in history he would draw,

With tales and whispers of treasure,

Of Gods’ and Pharaohs’ ancient pleasure.

© K.N.Liddington