A poem by Catherine McGeachy

I groaned a gutted gasp
As I heaved my last Breath
In bloodied solitude
Downed in secret hills 
For mindless pleasure

Stripped of all that is noble
Of heritage, history and home
I hang In gaunt indignity
A once honoured Presence
Now ornamental commodity

Yet I, of storied ancestry
Who roamed sacred glens
Once served My Community
With life-preserving Nourishment
Preventing death

Where are the heroes of Éireann, 
Its Guardians of Soul and Soil?
Protectors Of Ancient treasures? 
Rise Up and Rout the Robber
Of the Old Irish Goat.

A Cry for Help
Féach le Cuidiú Liom.