Dian Cecht (Tuatha Dé Danann)

I carry on, on rivers of time
free of chains
free of mud
with stains of darkness
where eyes should see stars
burning in temples
made of sand, pride, decadence.

I carry on, on mountains erased
by greed, sin, desire and death
where fountains of green
were once guarding
the ghosts of our sun
the voice of our past

I carry on, my dear
in every echoless night
designed by my fate
destroyed by our date
with the rivers of time