When It Floods

Skies above crack
Before they fall;
In our absence,
Nature grows tall.
And sure as drops
Hit the ground,
We did falter –
The first to drown.

Now forsaken,
Without a doubt;
Our slow poison
Effaced by a rout.
The water rises
To our shoulders;
Us of all guises –
Colder and colder.

The jagged rain
Pricks with points;
The bitter wind
Stiffens our joints.
The peaceless sea
Attacks the shore –
Damnless Clontarf
Yields to the roar.

Epiphany, too late!
Behold the flash.
Some writhe but wilt
As the waves crash.
Floods sweep away
All in their path –
And muds settle above
Our vain epitaph.