Not Anymore Poem by Ailbhe Eighteen

Dear friend, I have a little secret to tell you,
‘Tis sure not a bluff or two;
But I no longer see gray skies above;
And shower in my tears and blood;
I no longer scowl at the wall and laugh,
And scream in my apathy, tough!
I no longer smile in bitterness,
And laugh in sorrow or less;
Dear friend, I only get good cries now, no disenchantment,
I already know how to breathe and gape, and not fret;
For this victor's soul rejoice in the moonlit Throne,
And dance in the widest plains gold grown;
So dear friend, no, my darkness foe,
It's time to shut you up in your sepulcher!