Came up with this almost instantly and could do with a bit of polishing but better than owt I could write. Particularly liked the last two lines
“Wise men say,” the old crowd softly sings,
As red and white rise bright through sea-born mist,
And Sunderland A.F.C. still spreads its wings,
By roaring stands where faithful fists are kissed.
The Stadium shakes beneath November rain,
Where hope survives though bitter seasons pass,
And every chant rolls thunder down the lane,
Like echoes sounding over shattered glass.
There stands Granit Xhaka, fierce in heart and stride,
A captain forged through battle, flame, and scar,
While Régis Le Bris walks calm beside,
To steer the weary Sunderland afar.
So wise men say true glory does not fade—
It lives where loyal souls and dreams are made.
“Wise men say,” the old crowd softly sings,
As red and white rise bright through sea-born mist,
And Sunderland A.F.C. still spreads its wings,
By roaring stands where faithful fists are kissed.
The Stadium shakes beneath November rain,
Where hope survives though bitter seasons pass,
And every chant rolls thunder down the lane,
Like echoes sounding over shattered glass.
There stands Granit Xhaka, fierce in heart and stride,
A captain forged through battle, flame, and scar,
While Régis Le Bris walks calm beside,
To steer the weary Sunderland afar.
So wise men say true glory does not fade—
It lives where loyal souls and dreams are made.
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