Arsenal

At the Emirates, beneath a sky of North London grey,
The Gunners stride, their hearts a steady, claret‑blue beat.
A chorus rises from the terraces, a faithful, fervent fray,
Where every pass recalls the glory of invincible feet.

Henry’s ghost still flickers in the wing’s swift, silken glide,
Bergkamp’s touch, a whispered art that time cannot erase.
We chant in unison, our voices swelling with pride,
As the red and white banner waves across the sacred space.

Through triumph’s roar and defeat’s sober, lingering sigh,
Arsenal endures—more than a club, a timeless creed.
In every corner of the world, beneath each British sky,
The dream of glory lives, and ever shall we heed.