oliver cromwell, the curse of cromwell, tyburn

Ghost of Cromwell

Do not think that he will not return,
Though his body be lost in old Tyburn
Do not think that he is dead,
Or believe in the tales of a severed head
Do not believe that he would care,
If he was cut down and quartered and was not there
Do not be too eager to curse his name,
When the past is rewritten for noble gain
Do not deny that this land of yours,
Bears the sinless blood of corrupted wars
Do not speak of treason or the trespass of law,
When the house that you serve may be guilty of more
Do not try to judge with methods unjust,
When the system you fought for you now cannot trust
Beware of the hands that cradle the poor,
Beware the mansion of legislature,
Beware of the progress that's built on cutbacks,
Spitting out contracts and choking on tax
Beware of religion that serves to divide
And the leaders of men unelected beside
Beware of false prophets that line up to preach,
In the pay of the rich and the tick and the leech
When the fate of a nation becomes conjecture
Will the people unite to select a Protector
Or will the voice of the people be drowned in the sea
Of what was once fairness and democracy
Drowned by the students of world-domination,
The ne'er-do-wells of a priviliged foundation?
Will there be a call for a new resurrection
When a self-imposed senate is bereft of direction?
Do not believe that he will not return,
On the hour of reckoning and utmost concern.

© Severn Dwyer. 2010

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