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Kevin Lynch - H-Block Martyr

Ireland’s soil is soaked in blood,
Gravestones for a thousand heroes,
The tricolour fly’s in Ulster’s sky
Defying the imperialist foe.

On Derry’s streets walk the souls
Of fourteen innocent Nationalist,
Their screams are heard as we lie in bed,
Assassinated by the murdering British.

The armies of ancient Irish kings
Stand idle by heaven’s shore,
They plead to God to set them free
To march upon Thatcher’s door.

Kevin Lynch lies in a prison cell
Whispering, softly, his last breath,
A candle burns throughout the night
Until Ireland learns of our comrades death.

by Daniel McDonagh

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