Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Anguish of a Dying Celtic

Detached existence of anguish
That harbors fathomless in my chest. 
Friends, I pray could hear the howling
That emits from a heart of repressed.

I write ye words of black
For none can imagine this lost.
English spreads without mothachadh!
Emotionless it kills without exhaust. 

A language struggling to subsist.
When its words are spoken
All are still as the elderly sing
With a Gaelic storm that's unbroken!

In the depths of my very essence
I feel it grasp my heart.
The blood of a Celtic armann.
Gaelic, true words of a peoples art.





Long time folks. I apologize for not posting any poems lately. Times have been rough, confusing, and filled with endless joy. I'm beginning to learn Scottish Gaelic because when I walk my true love down to the alter I don't want use the English words, but the Gaelic words of my Ancestors. Its sad to know that both Gaelic's (Scottish, and Irish) are dying. If I can learn all I can I'm going to teach it to my children. It's beautiful language.  So HAPPY NEW YEAR and I hope you a drank ye fill and celebrated like a true Celt! I know I did!


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