Of all the things I ever did
And on all the things I held so dear,
Ever all I wanted to accomplish,
To pen a rhyme an Irishman held near.

A song to sing to begin the spring
Or a lament to raise a pint to.
Like rebels before who held the door
So that we could march right through.

And many will say I am not in that way,
Born on Erin's emerald isle.
But my heart's as green as e'er been seen
And my heritage I cling to all the while.

Life thus far has been but naught;
Rife with torment, tears, and fraught.
And ever on my soul does step
Around the bend and gently swept
To a greener plain both bright and fair,
No more to tread a boggy chare.
To familiars close and kins away,
To God's green Heaven is where I stray.

I'd kick a can as far as I could,
But I'm as empty as the thing and it does no good.

I'd smash the glass after I finished my beer,
But the shards would scatter, like my heart, I fear.

And who would clean up the mess?

I smile at the pretty girls and introduce myself,
But they see my belly and grey, so I go back on the shelf.

There is a girl; Scots-German and holy,
But my brother pursues her and I am not worthy.

And who would clean up the mess?

I'd drink up the ocean and die belly up,
But the sea would refill from when I erupt.

I've scaled my last mountain and caressed my last *****,
But, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I crossed all my chasms.

Got to give up that ghost.

Merrick, was he
And now farmer.
The ghost of the Euridi wars
But now simply father.

She gave unto him Ilo
And then passed.
A treasure from her *****.
For what more could he ask?

The grey in his hair
And the wrinkle upon his skin.
As his daughter kissed his cheek
He thought not of past sin.

Ilo sang as the angels
And glided with beauty.
But her sickness had doomed her
To waste away rudely.

Traveller Nner spoke of
Arcadia and the four ghosts of God.
Far away, over mountains
Plagued by demons and monsters odd.

Ilo can live again,
Warrior-farmer-father.
Across the desert, ocean, and mountains
Do not falter.

Staff in hand,
Upon Kerona he rides.
Eastward towards the ghosts
With Ilo's body by his side.

Dragon of desert lands,
From the sand to the sky, fly
Breathe of fire, brimstone
A war through the night.

Cut deep
The flesh of the fire breather.
For your daughter Ilo's soul
Hangs in the ether.

Victory and blood
But her body lies still.
No gain from this battle.
Only sorrow and hatred to feel.

Forward to the ocean,
To the lair of the giant serpent.
The one who drinks up the waters
And will not relent.

The mighty beast,
He steals away Ilo's body.
To the floor of the earth,
Beckoning Merrick hotly.

A foul beast has stolen
The body of my daughter.
Merrick breathes in all the air
And follows after.

A war under water,
Flesh and blood in twain.
****** into the belly of the beast.
A nameless grave.

Burst forth from the entrails,
Ripped, bitten, and torn.
Another beast overcame.
Another victory, though forlorn.

He holds her body
And her head against his.
A tear he permits.
His life would he give.

To the forests of Zalvest
To the lair of evil.
Black magic awaits
To unravel his meddle.

Trickery of the mind,
Manipulated with horror.
Recalling the gruesome battles of Euridi
And comrades lost to war.

Blinded by fear,
By the demon wizard of Zalvest.
How helpless he feels.
Lay the ghost to rest.

Acceptance of sin,
Parting with guilt.
A wizard rendered weak,
The evil-willed welps.

To the four ghosts of God
Atop the mountains of Arcadia.
Breathe life to Ilo
I have bested the sons of Echidna.

Not ghosts of God,
But of the devil.
A sacrifice for a life,
A hero laid low to their level.

And Ilo is raised,
Her breathe is now her own.
With his parting words
His love is shown.

On a night in December
In a pale stricken grey,
Laid beside my Isabella
In a dark winter's embrace.

As the moon shone down
To our valley below
Surrounded by the trees,
Where frost did grow.

Where we loved like wild creatures
And cared not for the outside world.
In our utmost feral delight
Our lust had unfurled.

And there was no grief
Nor sorrow or tear stricken eye.
Just the trees, the snow,
My Isabella and I.

A man who had lived his life in D Minor,
This man whom life had given a shiner,
Humbled and begged by the all night diner.
And spoke of a woman, how he nestled beside her.

His beard was stricken with soot and grey.
So grey that none could love it away.
Not to the color of amber of the fields that sway.
For the lips he had kissed had been led astray.

He spoke of forgiveness for a woman's misdeeds
And how her eyes were as blue as the seas.
To love often and treat hate like disease.
I could not outgive what he imparted to me.

You would cause as much damage, too,
If your love was ripped from you.
You would beat mercilessly on rooftops and rain
As much as the world could hold and remain.
You would tear families and loved ones apart
Just like she stole, from your chest, your heart.
But even your most gentle touch, when beginning anew,
Would cause heartache and crush marrow and sinew.