Mixed IV\u2019s<\/p>\n
Prelude<\/p>\n
Let cold winds howl<\/p>\n
And soft rain speak<\/p>\n
Oft mutters quiet<\/p>\n
Dare not repeat<\/p>\n
To quest for such<\/p>\n
A glory\u2019s peak<\/p>\n
To fly once more<\/p>\n
Instead of sleep<\/p>\n
\n
Act I<\/p>\n
Workshop<\/p>\n
For all our parts combined<\/p>\n
Bear fruits as succulent in mind<\/p>\n
As Greek ambrosia, or Roman summer wine.<\/p>\n
So beg from our groggy confusion define<\/p>\n
Where an acceptable space to find,<\/p>\n
Or flying body toe a line?<\/p>\n
So in sinking pirates we have freed<\/p>\n
Our own armada to sail the seas<\/p>\n
In daring crest we conceive<\/p>\n
To ride the wave of opportunity.<\/p>\n
\n
Act II<\/p>\n
Killing Mercutio<\/p>\n
Is it a quick mercy to lay down<\/p>\n
Forever the hopes of such upstart youths,<\/p>\n
Whose crime but a smile in the way<\/p>\n
Of a Limerick armies marching boots?<\/p>\n
Well our spirits warmed upon their pyre<\/p>\n
Our progress played to snapping bones,<\/p>\n
A future gazed back in the flames<\/p>\n
Of precise throws and tightening zones.<\/p>\n
\n
Act III<\/p>\n
The Old Enemy<\/p>\n
Fire forges the finest steel<\/p>\n
That time tempered to its will<\/p>\n
So hardened it is drawn to feel<\/p>\n
The strength amidst a Maynooth chill.<\/p>\n
But weapons do not a warrior make<\/p>\n
Rather muscle, nerve and sinew<\/p>\n
A unity that will not shake<\/p>\n
And faith in time to see things through.<\/p>\n
No greater sound to the divine<\/p>\n
Than heretic cry or traitor sneer,<\/p>\n
Still better yet when friends combine<\/p>\n
To lay to rest an ancient fear.<\/p>\n
\u00a0And so we turn to face the final test,<\/p>\n
Which in glory reach and history rest.<\/p>\n
\n
Act IV<\/p>\n
A Tragic End<\/p>\n
The Promised Land would seem absent,<\/p>\n
Without the guards at the gate<\/p>\n
But heroes do not destiny lament<\/p>\n
Nor do we bow in the face of fate<\/p>\n
We are nothing if not insolent<\/p>\n
Even on the edge of a growing gulf.<\/p>\n
They had pride, skill, experience,<\/p>\n
And a silver bullet to kill the wolf.<\/p>\n
\n
Epilogue<\/p>\n
With bitter defeat<\/p>\n
We padded home<\/p>\n
The day deplete<\/p>\n
We still condone<\/p>\n
The daring reach<\/p>\n
Over cowards moan<\/p>\n
For while dogs sleep<\/p>\n
They dream in bone.<\/p>\n