At_Last

From heights of equal vile stature Do we plunge to voids unknown Consumed in selfish heedless rapture When remembrance, too, is thrown From memory's cliffs, As if from Moher? The ocean filled of it's own tears, Unstilled, yet storms this barricade, And rails the walls of duty's fears, Tormented of amends need made. They who reigned from heights, abhorred, Vouching bromides, never spared, As ladies, men who would be "Lords", And blighted knights who, killing, cheered.

From self ascendant precipice Eternal grace is thus dismissed.

An ocean wept As mothers leaped

Fathers, sisters, brothers, stepped From these killing cliffs of Moher.

The ever folding sea retains An echo that, alone, remains.

Impounding waves of rage decry The never answered question "Why?"

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