Cluain Tarbh
Flying went the Ficheal Board as Mael Mórdha entered a rage At the sons of the Boróimhe for the taunts which they spoke About deeds past of which they scarcely knew Mighty was the fury into which the King flew Back, back, back he rode, from the High King's Dún Brían's messenger with peace offering had his skull clove in two The sea between Laighean and the Lochlannaigh host Grew thick with their dragonboats fierce as Sitric Norse King of Dubh Linn summoned a great host With Gormfhlaith, Mórdha's sister, as the main bait The Norsemen flocked from the Shetlands, Hebrides and Orkneys The holy land of Mannanán, halfway across the sea From Cornwall, Flanders and Normandy, they came for the melée Brían on hearing of invaders Many gathered his clans and headed east At Cluain Tarbh they did assemble And prepared for great slaughter Flying the banner of the raven black The Lochlannaigh host did attack Victory prophesized on that day: Good Friday 1014 Gael fought Viking fought Viking fought Gael As their weapons drank their fill The tide was turning against Ború 'Til Mael Seachlainn arrived with forces new D'eitilt an Mórrigán trasna Cluain Tarbh The warriors of Wodea turned and fled The Boróimhe forces led great slughter Mannanán took their longships The sea turned red Brodar came from Man seeking Brían's wife Brodar fled the battle taking Brían's life He fought a bloody fight at the edge of Tomar's wood Cutting the High King down in his tent: Brían's Shieldgeld then slew Brodar too Many men went to Valhalla still more to Donn's cave Though the power of the Lochlannaigh was broken on that day Did die the kings of Orkney, Hebrides and Man So too did die Mael Mórdha, did the sons of Brían's clan The Kingship of Ériu did revert to the King of old Mael Seachlainn returned to Tara to reclaim its halls as his own
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026
Clouds darken and dampen My spirit As My brow bows low While My eyes see only earth The engraining of furrows on My soul Feels as though the winds of one thousand winters Have hacked away whatever life existed Within My now battered link To the world of Donn He calls But not for Me to follow He calls out Storms of support for My cause He calls out storms Which feed But dying embers That grow slowly from the ash Which had threatened to engulf And rise Rise to flames Which burn Which burn the dead wood Onward, yes onward comes the bellowing cries Which resounds through the hills As the stag roars in triumph Once again he will rise, a Rí of the South And with him will rise the hope of the Gael Embrace the new with purpose and vigor Revive the old and condemn Gall Glassa
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026
Cold, cold rain flows down the inside of my skin Days turn black as night as my heart dies Blood runs red as life freezes away Isolation reigns in this land of decay For life fails to live, merely exist in misery As the heart of the man all hate to love slows and dies For life fails to live, merely exist in misery As the heart of the man all hate to love slows and dies
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026