Sanctuary (at St Anthony’s Chapel)

Holyrood Park has a colourful past, It once gave refuge to exiled outcasts. No matter what their crime or reason, Be it robbing the rich, arson or treason. Blaggers, bandits, thieves and outlaws, All were safe here, from ancient laws.

Cut-throats, pirates, psychopaths, All have walked the Seat's darkest paths. A haven from torturous harsh routines, Of dungeons, noose and guillotines. St Anthony's Chapel, built around 1350, Soon became home to those who were shifty.

This Hermitage, designed as a quiet retreat, Taken over as cover from patrolling heat. It provided shelter, an ample dwelling, To anyone with stolen goods for selling. The Chapel, a perfect hidey-hole, An asylum for those who murdered or stole.

'Wanted, Reward Offered' a bountied head, Better risk the park, than end up dead. This safety, however, had a catch, For those with cunning plans to hatch. Staying there had a costly price: No guarantees from each other's vice.

The Outlaw robbed the Bandit first, Who in turn stole coins, 'til his pockets burst. His victim, the Psychopath, took his revenge, The Bandit was never seen again. The gold was back with it's previous owner, A scary, emotionless, arrogant loner.

Perhaps he should have been less sure, As the Arsonist soon would smirkingly lure, Him into a trap, of flames and ash, The Psychopath's life went past in a flash. The Blagger was next to have a go, At getting his hands on the pot of gold.

He talked the fire maker out of his stash, With his cap filled with coins, he made a mad dash. But his devious plan didn't get him too far, As he stumbled along, through the thick Scottish haar. "Stand and Deliver", a deathly voice cried, The Arsonist fought, but had nowhere to hide.

And so the Outlaw made off with the loot, Away from his former villainous cahoots. Whoever had gold became instantly rich, A fair target for those who were down in the ditch. And so, one by one, the offenders demised, This unforeseen peril, went unrealised.

Be they wrong doers, or wrongly suspected, At St Anthony's Chapel, lost souls were protected. It's last inhabitant, the Hairyhermit, Lived there peacefully, no need for a permit. No longer a home to society's truants, The Chapel stands crumbled, in historic ruins.

Copyright 2017 the Tartan Outlaw From Fairy Trails of Arthur’s Seat