Black maggot eyes in a white face
Once more I pilfer as the pyot
Giving song in flight
With gloating grace
I soar above that living death
Which would swear severance or swallowance to thy wings
Be it mayhap a life to the bird's feather
Or as an unmet blade
Unmatched or unwhetted
So go forth in abandonment
To skirmishes proferred
Cleaving flesh in a triumph of blood
And spatter those specks which grow to loathsome rust
Hear now the wailing of the coineag
She who cries by the rivers
Readied in memory
For those men of the sea
Chosen to be wrest
From their stricken boats
Dragged below the waves
Into consumptive brine
By the blue-skinned fiends
Shrivelled and soaked
In a pallor of ocean black
Those hues of decay
That woeful tale
Sitting heavy in the hearts
That call from the depths
Sodden beneath the lands of the blade
Dwelling at the bottom of the sea
To know true shame and sorrow
Now sitting heavy and silent
Within the ribcage of the hull
That rests on the seabed
The guilt of sodden dead men
At first beflecked
But in time to be bestrewn
Hand in hand on
Hard black stones
Wretched lives lived in the name of wretched life
Just as such to be
As Aidean and Modean the fallen saints
Twisted in soul as in body
Embittered as St. Bride
Enslaved as Dubhthach broken chieftain
Weighted by enscourgement of the cross
O druid he who knew of thee
And set forth to be flagellated
Her shredded flesh to bleed for Him
The wretches would not starve
And I would not set forth
To those who will not live
Under closed eyes saw them gathered in white
Foreshadowed they of future sanctity
Consecrated the purity of ages mote
Shadows of the future shown
Discardment of our every vow
Breaking each and every oath
Battered face and swollen cheek
Besmote by He
Beneath the will of holy grace
A tapestry grotesque
He who did receive thee
Barren of womb
In denial of a broodless sorrow
Everfading under cloak and veil
A miracle of decay
You welcomed fruitless years
In your oratories and dwelt
Death begotten death
To death beget in death
begone
