Loch Súilí

Loch Súilí
  
Grianán Aileach, overseeing, endures.    
Dagda still whispers,  
Calling in the ethereal mist  
over Loch Súilí,  
The Lake of Eyes.  
   
Ghosts ride in on  
the historic, haunting haze.    
Shadows of Earls departing, carrying    
not only their sadness  
but the heart of old Ireland.  
 
(Chorus)
The lake has eyes,
does it see inside you?
Liquid eyes pulling visions from the void,
Ancient voices echo
through the years,
Lake of cries,
Lake of tears.

These lyrical lapping waters,  
still hypnotic, still enthralling.  
The safety of your bay forged  
Newton's Amazing Grace, waves    
spawning revulsion of trading of slaves.  
   
But I wonder,  
Does your chattering Judas Tide regret    
handing in the Irish Wolfe?  
A dry political tsunami,  
Your swell that killed a country.  
   
And Lough Swilly do you mourn    
the Saldanha Navy 200?  
From your maw, dead, you spat,  
Looking to redress for Tone perhaps?  
Alas, cloaking the Grand fleet in ‘18 suggests NO.  
   
Oh Poor Child, Dagda smiles,  
On the breeze he offers,  
The Lake of Shadows is merely our witness,    
tears of innocence , it’s salt waters,  
It’s you people who are the problem...