Lament Mother, For That Which Was Holy Is Gone

A head and a hand from a grand champion.
Cuchalain of ancient lore stands,
Alongside the Duma na Ngiall.
Lonely hostages all,
Witnesses of this sorrowful time.

Away now Lugh, away Macha Mong Ruad,
Fast away from the shaded hills and vales.
Flee from the beasts that would hollow
Your graves and disturb your sacred rest
Far away from the fools of this day.

Cormac gave rise to the thought
That Tara would have no meaning in time.
That the sense of royalty would be lost
That Ireland, precious Mother, would die.
Lament, Mother, for that which was holy is gone.

Away now, with despair, far from the
Greening beauty, fast run ye Champions
Into the Under Regions, the hidden recesses,
Huddled together in dim mockery,
To await the awakening time.

Text created by Susan Isabella Sheehan

“Art Is The Perception Of An Altered Reality©”
Copyright 2008 Surreal Digital Artist™

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Lament Mother, For That Which Was Holy Is Gone

Susan Isabella  Sheehan

SANTA CLARA, United States

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 4

Artist's Description

Written in light of the recent fight over the Tara Complex in County Meath, Ireland, and the M-3 Motorway scheme.

Artwork Comments

  • tkrosevear
  • Susan Isabella  Sheehan
  • Sally Omar
  • Gregory John O'Flaherty
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