DENNIS COSLETT
Rebel Heart
Divided and Scorned
England! Heed you not the gore of blood on
your tarnished hands? The molestation of
truth you frowned upon? Admit the guilt,
steeped in the bloodshed and the chill of your
unyielding hearts, kindled with hatred.
Deprived of nationhood, sadness before
us lies. I hear Erin's cries, shrieking in the
winds across the sea, the wailing yells
of slaughter, abysmal poverty inflicted on a
fettered nation, the unthorned rose.
Disclose your shame in hell, awakened
from the nightmare of your fiendish history.
No celestial abode; be abandoned, alone; no
shrine of memory, only vengeance and a shroud
of gloom befits you.
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