Lament

Dear Nation, we bow our heads as we tread;
Our heart’s are heavy, our spirit near broke;
No eulogy from plinth or alter were read,
And yet it is among the distressed spoke;
The young state had died, her virtue is gone;
Her colours shames, hang like a white flag;
We mourn all the ideals our forebears won;
The wolves of Europe have killed the great stag;
And we weep. We weep as the despair gets worse,
We weep for those that deteriorate most,
Our hope is as spent as our squandered purse;
We swore to be free, it is no more boast
We chain those that gave less than they could give -
With this, our one curse. We will not forgive.

Declan O’Reilly