Don't let them in.

Your skin is a relic

In a maze

Of decent people.

 

The skeleton you gave away, the one

You gifted the children of Ireland

Is now and always will be

A fortress for us

 

As warriors, stubborn with passion

And righteousness

Starved to death for a basic request

Of acknowledgement.

 

But remember

The war is far from over,

Not the war of the desert

As media commentates

But our own brutal war

Of imperial resistance,

 

The ceaseless aching chase

For the missing piece,

Our severed pulse

Of the north.

You are not forgotten.

 

As H Block reminds

With a chill in every county

Freedom in this instance

Can only be achieved

By taking back our country

With force.