The dogs of death they did their bit,
that fateful day in seventy-nine;
Conceived in the depths of hatred’s pit,
to oblivion they did consign.
A Peer of the Realm a target there,
children amongst the dead;
Those callous killers did not care
as from that scene they sped.
More deadly still a deed to be,
on soldiers of the Crown;
Beside the inlet from the sea,
on a road to Newry Town.
Warriors seared and torn asunder,
their very flesh on fire;
Survivors maimed amid the thunder
a deathly scene of horror dire.
Then a second blast to trail the first,
viewed from vantage o’er the water;
Killers slaking their deadly thirst,
human suffering did not matter.
They still must face another shore
across the River Styx to steer;
To join their ilk gone on before,
thieves of life and futures dear.
Monty Alexander 27.8.2019