Ireland's OWN Poetry and Prose

No Glory
—by The Wandering Bard

In the darkness of night two dealers in strife
Begin plotting to end a good man’s life
Cowards for the Crown, those wretched two
Knowing only hatred of the man
For his belief that his home’s freedom is due

With a flash and a bang the deed is done
Another family ruined, as the Crown’s cowards run
As the crucifix hits the blood stained ground
Freedom gains a new martyr
And the sacred circle completes another round

A child’s shrill cry pierces the silent night
Awaking from a dream, screaming in fright
As the mother comforts her, a knock at the door
Reveals a grief stricken priest
And the knowledge that daddy is no more

The world refuses to stop for the wife
And the pain of her grief stabs like a knife
At night the young girl cries herself to sleep
The mother tries to be brave
But her front falters and she begins to weep

No justice, no honor, no relief from fear
The mother holds her daughter near
But one look into the young girl’s eyes
Shows Sorrow’s rage
For the Crown that she’ll forever despise
No matter how often the girl strikes back
Her agony only demands another attack
The Crown calls her terrorist
Yet when her deeds by God are weighed
Her terror, the Crown and its cowards made
No glory will quelch the fire of her grief
Her father’s memory bolsters her belief
That only when the Crown leaves her land
Will peace find her heart
Or to forgotten joy will she offer her hand

With a flash and a bang the girl’s life is done
A mother’s worse fear realised
as the Crown’s cowards run
Freedom gains a new martyr as a knock at the door
Reveals a grief stricken priest
And the knowledge that like her daddy,
the girl is no more.