Dublin, Double, Doubt - Marcella Boccia

The Cliffs shall callBeneaththe heavens’ gray embraceWhere winds of sorrowcarve the spaceThe Cliffs of Moherrise austereA throne where silenceclaims the seerTheir jagged edgescold and vastHold whispersof the lives that passedEach soul that leanedto meet the galeTo glimpsebelow the ocean’s veilAnd therewhere earth and sky collideWhere time itself daresnot resideA perfect deathseems softly sownA plunge into the great unknownNo criesno chains to hold me fastNo echoesof the shadowed pastJust wind and wavea final breathA quiet falla lover’s deathI’d jointhe murmurs of the seaIts ancient hymn enfolding meTo drift with tidesto ebb and flowTo leave this weighted worldbelowThe cliffs shall calltheir song so sweetA melodywhere fate may meetFor in their graspthere is releaseA fleeting falleternal peaceWould Yeats have dreamedof such an end?Where sea and rockand spirits blend?I hear the callits mournful toneAnd long to makethat leap my own

To drift beneath the archesBeneath O’Connell’ssteadfast spanI stand and feelthe river’s planIts gentle pullits ceaseless songTo carrythe restless heart alongWhat if I leapt, a whispera sighTo join the Liffeyas it winds byThrough arches bentby time and stoneWhere Dublin’s soulhas long been sown?Bridge by bridgeits waters callA Viking’s ghostin its rise and fallTo the sea that cradledtheir sturdy prowsAnd kissed the shoreswhere their honor bowsThe tide would take mefarawayBeyond where sunlightgreets the dayTo meltinto the ocean’s breastAnd findat last eternal restNo traceno shadow left behindJust flowing watersundefinedDublin wouldforget my nameYet I’d be partof its endless frameOh city bornof blackened poolWhere tides are fierceyet strangely coolTake me nowbeneath your streamsAnd let me fadein timeless dreams

Jealous of the cupOh fragile porcelainyou daring thiefYou steal what I canonly dream to keepYour warmth caresseswhere I long to dwellYour kissa secret you’ll never tellYou touch his lipsso softso fairAnd lingerwhere my heart would dareYou cradle his breathhis whispered sighsWhile I remainin longing’s disguiseEach sip he takesa lover’s vowAnd Ian outsiderwonder howA lifeless cupcould hold such graceCould taste the soulI cannot traceThe steamthat rises meets his gazeA fleeting veila fleeting hazeYet even thatI envy stillFor it touches himagainst my willOh foolish heartwhy ache so much?For lipsyou’ll never truly touch?Yet stillI pinemy longing steepedFor love that’s hisbut never reaped

Beneath the Dublin skyI wish I were the rainso lightso nearThat kisses your umbrellacrystal-clearAs you wanderwhere battles once did rageThrough Dublin’s streetseach stone a pageI’d dance upon the threadsof history’s veilSoft whispers in the aira lover’s taleEach droplet fallserasing pain and strifeReplacing deathwith dreams of present lifeI wish I were the windthat finds your faceThat tangles in your bearda golden graceThe hue that leprechaunshold dear and brightA flame of hopewithin the city’s nightI’d sweep away the shadowsgriefand woeAnd gift the dubliner’s heartsa tranquil glowLet laughter bloomwhere sorrow used to stayAnd peace endurebeneath the skies of greyOh let me be the breezethe rainthe songTo walk beside yougentlyall day longTo be a partof every step you takeAnd soothe the aching worldfor love’s sweet sake

A soul of stoneMy soul is carvedin the Burren’s stoneWhere ancient windshave softly flownUpon that limestonegrey and bareA whisper lingers in the airNo velvet earthno fertile greenBut cracks where lifehas faintly beenYet in its crevicesflowers bloomDefying harshnessdefying doomThe rocks endurethe tempest’s cryBeneath the changelessbrooding skyTheir silence speaksof battles foughtOf wisdom age and strifehave wroughtLike themmy soul bears marks of timeOf sorrow’s weightof grief’s climbBut rooted deepit will not breakA steadfast heartno storm can shakeAmong the stonesthe wild things growThe gentian bluethe hawthorn’s glowSo too withina quiet graceA fragile beautyfinds its placeOh Boireannteach me how to beAs strong as stoneas wildas freeFor in your rocksI see my ownA soul of eartha heart of stone

True loveTrue loveis not a cage of goldNor chains that bindnor hands that holdIt does not claimit does not ownBut lets the spiritsoar aloneIt walks besidebut does not steerIt whispers softyet draws no fearLike wind that bendsthe trembling treeIt touches allyet leaves it freeNo jealous shadowdarkens graceNo need to clingno frantic chaseTrue love is freedom’ssteady gazeA beaconthrough life’s shifting hazeIt blooms in trustit thrives in airWhere hearts are lightand minds are bareLike riversflowing to the seaIt finds its courseeternallyFor love that seeks to lockconfineWill wither fasta fading vineBut love that openswide and trueWill blossom brightforever newSo let your lovebe wild and wiseAs fleetingas the starry skiesFor in its freedomhearts take flightA boundless joya pure delight

The heart of IrelandIn the misty hillswhere the green winds blowThe heart of Irelandbeats steady and slowWith eyes like the seafierce and deepA soul that the stormcannot break or sweepProud and truewith heads held highThey face the worldwith a fearless sighThrough centuries of trialstheir spirit has stoodA people born of fireof struggleand bloodIn their laughter is strengthin their silence is graceIn every wrinklea storya faceWith hands that buildand hearts that healThey carry a lovethat is raw and realFrom the cobbled streetsto the rolling greenIn every whispertheir dignity is seenThey bow to no onethough humble they standFor they are the keepersof this ancient landThe Irish are proudnot with boast or prideBut with a dignitythat cannot hideFor in every manand in every treeIs the heart of Irelandforever free

The wall of silenceI stand before themwords unspokenFor in their gazeall hope is brokenTheir voices riseso sureso loudWhile mine is lostwithin the crowdThey wear their pridelike a golden crownBlinded by their ownrenownWith every wordthey build their wallA fortress stronga silent callI try to speakto break the chainBut my words falllike drops of rainThey don’t hearthey never seeThe person hiddendeep in meTheir world revolveswith them at the coreAnd mine is left to whisperimploreBut no echo comesno understanding foundIn their realmmy voice cannot resoundSo I retreatin silence dwellWhere my thoughtscan rise and swellFor arrogance and narcissisticreignLeave me lostin their empty disdainI seek the quietthe listening earWhere empathy bloomsand hearts draw nearBut with themall is cold and brightA world where my voiceis lost to the night

ResilienceThrough windsthat howl and skies that weepI walkthough wearywith steps that creepThe world may breakthe shadows may fallBut I rise againthough I stand so smallBeneath the weightof sorrow’s handI find the strengthto understandThat every woundthough deep and wideGives birth to couragethat I cannot hideLike roots that burrowthrough the stoneIn silence deepI find my throneFor evenin the darkest nightA spark within mestill holds lightThe storms may ragethe tides may roarBut I stand unbrokenon the shoreWith every scarmy soul grows strongA silent anthema whispered songThrough shattered dreamsand hopes delayedI rise from ashesunafraidFor resilience liveswithin the heartA steady flamethat will not departSo let the windscome howling nearAnd bring with themthe weight of fearFor in the depthsof all despairI find the strengthto rise and care

EmpathyIn the silenceof a winter’s eveI hear the heartsthat softly grieveA whisper of their sorrowedcriesEchoing beneaththe open skiesNot with my earsbut with my soulI feel the burdenthe endless tollOf those who walkwith pain untoldTheir suffering wrappedin shadows coldEmpathya tender threadWoven through the tearsthey shedA bond that reachesfar and wideAcross the distancenone can hideI walk beside themunseenA stranger’s heartin places keenA touch so softa glance so deepInto their anguishI gently creepI carry their weightthough unseenIn every breaththeir sorrow’s sheenFor in their eyesI see my ownA shared reflectionnot aloneEmpathythe gift we bearA kindness purea sacred prayerFor in the depthsof another’s painWe find our own heartsbreak again

The solitude and the friendIn quiet walkswhere shadows fallI find my peaceaway from allThe world can spinits noise and hasteBut Iin silenceam embracedA soul untetheredfree to roamThrough empty streetsI make my homeNo eyes to pierceno words to bindIn solitudemy heart alignedYet in the stillnessfate did weaveA thread of joyI could not believeA friend appearedwith gentle eyesAnd in their gazeno swift disguiseNo judgment fellno harsh decreeJust open armsa place to beThrough all my flawsthey saw me wholeA mirror clearreflecting soulIn solitudeI learned to growBut with this friendI learned to glowFor in their loveso kind and pureI found the joyI’d longed forsureNo chainsno wallsno distance wideJust hearts entwinedno need to hideIn solitudeI find my graceBut with my friendI’ve found my place

The beauty of the soulOh beautynot of flesh or fleeting faceBut in the depthwhere silent shadows traceA light that burnswithout the need for flameA tender fire that speaksno earthly nameIt lingers in the quietof the nightA star unseenyet steady in its flightIt whispers through the windsthat kiss the treesA secret songthat dances on the breezeNo mirror holds its shapeno canvas paintsFor it is boundlessfree from worldly constraintsIt wears no crownnor jewelsnor grand arrayYet in its glowthe world will find its wayThe soula river winding through the yearsIts beauty carved by laughterbloodand tearsNot in the eyes of othersdoes it restBut in the heartit wears its truest vestFor beauty born of soulis ever trueA gift that ages notand cannot rueIt shines through every trialstormand strifeThe quiet gracethat marks a life with life

Emerald isleA veil of greenso deep, so wideWhere hills and valleysgently bideAn island kissedby mist and rainIts beauty softa sweet refrainFields stretch fara quilt of dreamsThrough which the golden sunlightstreamsAnd rivers danceto ancient songsWhile time moves slowwhere it belongsHere castles standboth proud and frailTheir walls alivewith whispered taleOf warriors bold and poets’criesBeneath the ever-changing skiesEach village hidesa world apartA beating soula timeless heartStone bridges archwhere waters weaveAnd secrets restin every eveThe cliffsthey risedefy the seaA boundary wildUnchainedand freeAnd forests humwith life unseenWhere shadows playin hues of greenOh Emerald Islea faerie’s songYour wonders callwhere hearts belongA land untouchedwhere dreams resideForever fairour endless guide

Dubh LinnBeneath the city’srestless sprawlWhere shadows lingerwhispers callThere lay a poolso deepso stillFed by Poddleshaped by willThe Liffey’s armswould intertwineWith waters darka blackened shrineDubh Linnthe name it bore with prideA mirror wherethe world could hideIts depths held secretsstories spunOf moonlit nightsand fleeting sunA sacred placea shadowed gleamA city bornfrom a quiet dreamThrough marsh and reedthe currents playedThe soft lamentwhere Poddle strayedIts breath still lingersthough unseenIn Dubliner heartsforever keenNow cobblestonesand bustling waysHave claimed the poolof ancient daysYet echoes risea ghostly traceOf blackened waterstime’s embraceDubh Linnhe heart beneath the stoneYour name still carveswhat we call homeFor evenwhere your pool has fledThe soul you forgedis far from dead

In the footsteps of Olof the WhiteThrough cobbled lanesof Dublin’s mightWhere red-brick whispershaunt the nightI wander lostyet not aloneFor shadows claimmy heart their throneA phantom walksbeside my strideA Viking kingwith solemn prideOlof the Whitewith sword once drawnWho ruled this landere love was goneHis presence humsa muted roarA tale of bloodof ancient loreThe Liffey’s songthe gulls’ refrainEcho his conquestslostyet gained“Do you seek peace?”his voice does call“Through laneswhere empires rose and fallThe walls you passhave seen my nameEtched deep in gloryetched in shame.The bricks seem warmerwhere he treadsThe living dreamamong the deadI turn to meethis steady gazeA thousand yearsblend in the haze“I sought a kingdom built on stoneBut found no solace on the throne"This city’s breathits cobbled veinsStill bear the weight of my remains.I shiver ’neathhis spectral lightThis Viking kingthis fleeting knightAnd yet his taledoes pierce my coreA love of placethat yearns for moreFor Dublin holdswhat time can’t severA pulse that beatsthrough past foreverAnd thoughI walk its streets aloneIts spirit whispers“You’re our own”

Ode to DublinOh Dublincity of my dreamsWhere every streetin twilight gleamsYour cobbled laneswith stories oldHold echoes of the braveand boldYour river flowswith silver graceA mirrorto your rugged faceAnd in its depthsthe past does glideA phantom tidea whispered guideYour skya canvas brushed with goldWhere ancient windsstill dare to holdThe secretsof the countless yearsAnd sing the songof hopes and fearsBeneath your moonthe shadows danceThe echo of a lover’stranceWhere poets oncewith pen in handWove words to freethis quiet landYour heart beats strongbeneath the stoneA pulse that whisperssoftaloneYet in your veinsthe spirit’s flameStill burns with couragefierceuntamedOh Dublinland of grief and songIn youthe ages all belongYour laughter liveswithin the rainYour sorrowtooa sweet refrainAnd though the yearsmay steal your lightYour soul will burnthrough darkest nightFor in your depthsand in your skiesThe truth of Irelandnever diesI walk your streetsyour dreams unfoldA city builtfrom blood and goldOh Dublinin your arms I stayAnd in your heartI’ll find my way

Unspoken flameIn the dim-lit hazeof Dublin’s breathWhere shadows dancewith life and deathI saw you therea fleeting starA beacon brightyet kept afarYour russet bearda fire untamedA heart unspokenyet unblamedYour voicea thread of ancient loreBound my souland shook its coreOh crimson flamemy secret woeHow cruel it isto let you goTo hold my tonguethough it might singAnd shatter this enchanted ringFor what is loveif not this acheA perfect momentI dare not break?Your laughtersoft as autumn’s breezeHas left my spiriton its kneesI sit in silencedrink the nightAnd steal a glanceby candlelightYou’ll never knowfor I will hideThe tide that swellsunspokeninsideBut if you knewwould it remainA fleeting joyor sweetened pain?Better to keepthis fragile blissThan taint its glowwith a mortal kissSo here I lingerin shadow’s embraceA ghost in lovewith your fleeting faceAn echo boundto the cobbled stoneForever silentforever alone

Your handsYour handslike rivers carved by timeGuided my wintered soulto warmthFingers long as harp stringsSoft as moss on stoneWhen your beardbrushed my cheekA forest of shadowsdanced on my skinAnd the kiss lingeredAs if winter had breathed springinto my veinsYour eyesdark lakes beneath a rainy skyTell storiesthat dare not find words,And in every glancea secret hidesA weave of pain and beautyonly you can bearYour voicea wind brushing over the hillsWhispered my namelike a prayerAnd in the silence that followedMy heart stood stillcaught betweendream and reality

The Viking heart(📝Marcella Boccia)He wears a smileas soft as dawnA charm to lifta veil to fawnBut underneaththe laughter liesA deeper sorrowin his eyesHis gazethough brightis shywithdrawnA warrior’s heartyet it feels wornLike ancient bloodboth fierce and boldA Celtic flamethat cannot coldO gentle soulwith kindness freeWhat hidden stormyou try to fleeYour gallant waysyour charmyour graceAre shields that hideyour tender faceI’d wander farthrough nights and daysTo bring you joyin soft arrayTo lift the shadowsthat you wearAnd teach you joybeyond despairFor in your veinsthe rivers runOf Viking heartsbeneath the sunYou hold a strengththat none can seeYet I would give my heartto theeAnd though you maskwith smile and cheerYour valiant soulI hold so dearFor in your silencetruth does bleedAnd in your heartmy own shall heed

The black harp(📝Marcella Boccia)Beneath the lightsof Dublin’s glowI sat where winterwinds did blowAnd found my skina canvas bareFor ink to weavea story thereAn harp so smallyet full of mightA blackened echoin the nightIts stringsthough silentstill do singOf ancient kingsof Ireland’s springFor Brianmighty in his reignWhose bloodthrough timewill still remainDid carry songsupon the breezeThat whispered softthrough Celtic treesA symbol carvedupon my skinTo mark the firethat burns withinThe heart of Irelandfierce and freeA pulse that callsthrough historyAnd as the inknow settles deepI feel the weightof oaths to keepFor in that harpboth proud and pureI hold the pastthat will endureA Christmas giftbeneath the starsA bridge from nowto ancient warsTo Brian’s dreamto Celtic loreA tattooed songforevermore

The borderline storm(📝Marcella Boccia)They see my smilemy fleeting graceA life they coveta lucky faceBut within this framea tempest swirlsA chaos where my mindunfurlsEach breatha wareach thoughta knifeThis isn’t livingit’s borrowed lifeMy heartit races without causeA drumbeat bornof broken lawsThe panic risesgrips my soulA chasm deepa gaping holeAnd in its graspI fight to standA prisonerof my own handOh they speak of joyof loveof lightThey cannot seemy endless nightThe storms withinthe silent screamsThe fractured selfthe splintered dreamsTo themI’m blesseda fleeting starNot a soulwith wounds that scarThey cannot knowthey will not seeThe razor edgeinside of meOh Dublinhear my shadowed cryThese cobblestoneswhere I could lieAnd let this stormfind quiet skiesBefore I’m lostwhere silence lies

Footprints of the poet(📝Marcella Boccia)I tread where Yeatsonce walked aloneHis voice now echoesthrough the stoneEach cobbled stepa fleeting rhymeEach shadowwhispers of his timeThe city’s breatha restless thingAching with songsit cannot singAnd Ia strangernot my ownAm bound by wordsI’ve never knownBeneath my feether footprints layRachel’s arther silent playYet more than bronzebeneath my heelThe weight of verseI cannot sealFor madness waitsa patient guestWhen silencerobs the soul of restAnd so I writethough not my tongueA borrowed hymna song unsungOh Yeatsyour shadow burns my mindA blazing torchI cannot bindYour wordsa mirrorcold and clearReflect the truthsI’d most revereI walk your streetsyour sacred groundThe rebel’s crythe mournful soundIn every stepin every stoneI hear the voicethat claims my ownThis need to writethis fierce demandTo grasp the fleetingwith my handTo carve the chaos into lineTo wrest from sorrowsomething divineAnd though the versestwist and frayAnd language faltersfalls awayThese borrowed wordsthough not my startHave now becomemy restless heart

At the steps of the GPO(📝Marcella Boccia)Beneath the pillarsstark and proudWhere rifles oncedefied the crowdA line now stretchessilentstillA hunger deeperthan mere willTheir faces wornby years of strifeEach glancea shard of broken lifeMen and womenold and youngWith songs of sorrowleft unsungI stood apartmy breath held tightThe ghosts of Easterin the lightThis sacred placeof rebel creedNow bears the weightof quiet needThe wind that whippedthe tricolor freeNow chills these soulsin povertyThe fight once wagedwith steel and flameNow battles hunger’sendless shameMy heart rebelledit burnedit weptIt cursed the crownwhose shadow creptWhose greed still feedson distant shoresWhile here despairknocks on the doorsOh Irelandland of grief and graceHow longmust famine haunt your face?How cruel the chainthat binds anewWhat freedom meansfor so few of youAnd yetamidst this weary throngA quiet couragelingers strongFor in their eyesthough dimmed by careA spark of something proudis thereAs I walked onmy soul did stayBound to that linethat bitter dayFor what is poetrybut a cryWhen faced with truthsthat shan’t deny?

On a Winter’s Bench- (📝Marcella Boccia) -Beneath the shadowedwintry skiesOutside the Librarywhere wisdom liesI sit and speakwith an elder soulHis voice a balmhis words make wholeHis charm is wovenrich and wiseA warmth that thawsDecember’s iceLike tea that sootheswith milk’s soft graceHis presence fillsthis frozen spaceThe Parliament standsits gates are sealedA silent witnessa truth revealedAs festive stillnessclaims the landWe linger herehand near to handThe world feels distanttime unwindsThe cold retreatsand solace bindsOh Dublinyour breath in winter’s chillYet hearts can burnand spirits fillFor words alonewhen deeply castCan heal the woundsof present and pastAnd in his gazeI glimpse the lightThat warms the soulthrough darkest night

At the Cobblestone- (📝Marcella Boccia) -Beneath the waning Dublin skyThe Cobblestone calledand so did ITo find where fiddleswove their threadAnd banished sorrow’sweighty dreadThe bodhrán’s thrumthe whistle’s sighBound hearts as onethough none knew whyA pint of blackthough sinlesscrownedThe nightwhere laughter’s spellwas foundThere sat a manwith beard of flameHis eyesgreen emberscalled my nameWith tales of rebelshillsand streamsHe pulled meinto woven dreamsWe spoke of nothingyet so muchOur worries lostto mirth’s soft touchThe world’s woes fadedthin as mistEach word we shareda fleeting trystHis handso firman anchor thereHeld fasta yellow umbrella rareA beacon brightamid the gloomA charmagainst the future’s tombOh guide of Dublinesque delightWill you not lingerpast this nightFor in your voicethe lilt of songThat bids the weary heartgrow strongThe fiddles stilledthe clock struck lateYet time seemed shyto close its gateFor in his gazeI dared to seeA life unboundboth wild and freeSo raise the glasslet health returnLet fires of joywithin us burnAnd though the nightmust fade awayIts memorywill forever stay

Celtic cross in the wind- (📝Marcella Boccia) -A Celtic cross standsjagged and wornkissing the windwhere the ocean is tornThe waves crash belowa feral hymna dirge for the lostfor the shadows withinIts stone is roughcarved by the yearsetched with whisperssoaked in tearsA relic of godsof battles and scarsof moons that watchedbeneath distant starsThe wind screams through itraw and alivelike voices of ghostswho refused to surviveTheir stories are stitchedin the salt-stained airrebels and loversthe broken who daredI see you therein its shadowed gazea warrior’s heartset ablazeYou kiss the stormwith a quiet defiancea soft rebelliona fierce relianceThe cross bows notthough time may demandit grips the earthwith a weathered handLike youit standswhere others would falla monument to freedomto answering the callAnd as the wind howlsI watch it benda fleeting gesturea lovera friendThe ocean roarsthe cross stays truea symbol of strengthlike the soul in you

Dark thoughts- (📝Marcella Boccia) -We walkedthrough Dublins streetsthe cold sharp and realwhile I spokeof the darknessthe numbness I feelHow life is a cycleso boringso grayhow every breathfeels like it’s wastingthe dayI told you of thoughtsthat cameuninvitedthe weight of the silencethe moments ignitedHow I crave the chaosthe firethe sparkhow without itmy soul just driftsin the darkAnd youwith your wisdomso steadyso calmspoke of the stormsof finding a balmOf how lifeisn’t just thrillsbut the quiet and peaceand how even the brokencan find a releaseI walked in your wordsyour steady refrainas the cold cut through usthe wind like a chainYou said I needed to feelbut not in the rushthat life’s beautylies in the stillnessthe hushBut stillin my chestthe hunger won’t ceasethe need for the wildthe crave for releaseYet your voice was a tetherpulling me backreminding me gentlythat peace isn’t lackWe walked in the nightthe city asleepwhile the secrets I told youI wanted to keepBut for oncethe cold feltlike more than a threatit felt like a spacewhere my heartcould forget

Stockholm syndrome- (📝Marcella Boccia) -We walked through Dublinthe cold biting deepbut the city was oursno promises to keepThe streets whispered secretsthe night did not carewe were rebels in the frostwith the wind in our hairI spoke of Indiaof its twisted mindof Stockholm’s gripof being confinedHow the heart can lovewhat hurts the mosthow the soul can tether itselfto a ghostYou listened in silencethe frost in your breathas I told of the chainsthat bind until deathOf love turned poisonof the mind’s cruel gameand how you can’t escapeoncethey’ve called your nameDublin’s streets were alivebut we were deadwalking ghostsboth lost in our headsThe cold didn’t matterthe world could freezewe were two in the nightdriven by diseaseSo we walked onthe wind howling in timeour words and the coldwere a perfect rhymeI spoke of lovetwisted and wrongand you just listenedwhere you belonged

The tea at Hyde- (📝Marcella Boccia) -We sat in the dim lightof Hyde’s embracethe city’s humfading into spaceThe silver teapotthe black cups coldour hands wrappedaround stories untoldYou taught me the artthe subtle graceof waitingof patiencein this quiet placeTwo drops of milklike secrets sharedin the dark brewboth daring and pairedThe steam rosebut so did the weightof unspoken wordsof hearts too lateYou showed mehow to make it righthow to let time slowdown the nightIn the silencein the swirling brewI learned more of meand more of youA dark rituala quiet fightwaiting for the perfectbiteSo we sipped in the darkand let it seepthrough the cracks of our soulsso deepThe tea was morethan warmth in the nightit was a moment stolenfrom the fight

Dublin’s ghosts in the wires- (📝Marcella Boccia) -The streets humwith electric veinsneon lights pulsethrough modern lanesDublin’s faceboth old and newa city of past and futurein every viewVikings’ shadowsunder glass and steeltheir bloodtheir fighttheir ancient zealIn every cornerin every screamechoes of warriorsstill in the dreamThe machines buzzthe screens glow brightbut history’s fire still burnsthrough the nightThe city movesit breathesit thrivesbut the ghosts of the pastare still aliveBetween the wiresthe siliconthe codethere’s a river of storieson every roadThe Vikings cameand they stayedin the stonenow their legacylives in the unknownIn this city of techof future’s claimwe walk the streetswe call their nameWe carry the pastwe wear it like a crownrebels and warriorsnever backing downSo let the screens glowlet the wires singDublin’s heartbeats in the past’s wingA city of legendsa city of pridewhere the past and futureboth collide

The bridge of rebellion- (📝Marcella Boccia) -We crossed the bridgethe river beneaththe city splitbut we were freeDublin’s heartbeating strongwe dreamt of rebelsof righting the wrongThe English thinkthe world is theirsthey build their towersthey wear their prayersBut we saw the citybroken and scarredfighting for freedomstanding guardIn the shadows of the pastwe stoodimagining ourselvesas we shouldrebels in the streetstaking the fightliberating Dublinin the dead of nightThe river floweda colddark streamcarrying our thoughtsour silent screamThe bridge beneath usthe city aheadwe dreamt of a worldwhere the chainswere shedSo let them thinkthe world’s their ownwe’ll burn in the darkwe’ll stand aloneFor Dublin is oursin heart and soulrebels forevermaking us whole

Heart of Earth- (📝Marcella Boccia) -Oh Irelandheart of earth and skyWhere mountains riseand rivers sighYour shores are kissedby endless wavesA cradle for the wildand braveIn fields of greenwhere grasses bowThe ghostsof ancient warriors vowTo guard the soulof every stoneAnd in your windstheir spirits roamThe hills that watchthe morning’s graceAre witnessesof time and placeWhere heroes felland lovers metAnd where the sunin goldis setYour lakesreflect the skies aboveA mirror to your endless loveAnd in your songthe winds will tellOf myths and dreamsof heaven and hellOh Irelandwith your heart so pureThrough stormsyou’ve foughtthrough peace enduredYour beautyin the world remainsA lightthat never dims or wanesI walk upon your soiland knowThat in your depthsthe rivers flowNot just with waterbut with graceThat blessesevery tired faceOh Irelandin your heart I findA love that hauntsthe deepest mindA spirit bornfrom land and seaForevermoreyou live in me

Dublin’s duality- (📝Marcella Boccia) -In Dublin’s heartwhere past and presentmeetThe Docklands rise in sleekcoldgleaming heatOnceships and saltand laughter filled the airNow glass towerspierce the fogwith silent glareThe cobbles echofootsteps of the oldWhere once the portwas filled with tales untoldYet now the pulseis masked in chrome and steelThe heartbeats of the pastthey cannot healI walked these streetswhere ancient smoke did riseNow they glistenbeneath the modern skiesAnd in the shadowsof the glass and stoneThe whispers of the sailorsstill are knownDublinwith all your charmyour endless graceYou carry boththe slow and fleeting paceThe bustle of your streetsthe quiet pastA city built on timeboth slow and fastThe Docklands gleama symbol of your fightTo shed the skinof yesterday’s dark nightBut in your veinsthe salt of history clingsAnd in your streetsthe echoes still take wingOh Dublinin your contradictions deepYou rise and fallyou wake and fall asleepIn glass and stoneyour dreamsmay touch the skyYet in your soulthe old songs never die

The harp on my hand- (📝Marcella Boccia) -I showed youthe ink on my right handa small harplike the last strandof Ireland’s heartwoven in the skinwhere history and rebellionbeginYouwith your skin so cleanso bareno ink to mark youno sign to wearBut in your eyesI see the flamea fire that burnsthough you’ve no nameThe harp is morethan just a songit’s freedomit’s rebellionit’s where I belongIt whispers of battlesof songs untoldof rebels and dreamersboth fierce and boldIn Irelandit’s the symbol of the freethe sound of the soulthe fight to beAnd when I showed it to youthat nightI wonderedif you saw the same lightYou wear no symbolsbut your spirit speaksin the way you movein the way you seekThe harp on my handis a battle cryand maybejust maybeyou hear it pass bySo while I carry this markso smallso brightknow that it’s morethan just ink in the nightIt’s Irelandit’s freedomit’s the rebel’s calland maybe one dayyou’ll understand it all

Age is a lie- (📝Marcella Boccia) -I never askedI never caredhow many years you’ve livedhow long you’ve staredinto the firethe booksthe darkyou carry timebut you leave no markYou feel younglike the winds that screamwild and freelike a restless dreamBut in your eyesthere’s too much depthtoo many storiesthat steal your breathYou speak like a sagebut look like the nightyour soul too oldfor your youthful lightI can’t count the yearsI can’t trace the linebetween the childand the man you defineYour knowledge is fireburning brightbut you wear it like darknessout of sightToo young to know so muchit seemsbut you are everythingthat history dreamsSo I don’t askand I don’t guessyour age is a secretno need to confessYou’re timelessa paradoxa flameforever bothyoung and olduntamed

Through the glass- (📝Marcella Boccia) -I sit where shadowssoftly dwellIn Dublin’s hearta private hellBeyond the glassthe world takes flightUnmoved by painmy veiled nightThe cobbled streetsin ceaseless flowFaces comeand faces goYet here I freezemy spirit boundA silent screamno echo foundAn Irish teamy fragile balmTo soothe the stormto feign a calmIts warmthagainst my trembling frameA fleeting shieldfrom fear’s cruel flameThey walkthey laughthey never seeThe frozen worldthat lives in meWhere panic reignsa specter’s graspAnd breath itselfbecomes a taskOh Dublincity fierce and grandYour life pours fortha shifting sandWhile Iensnaredcan only stareThrough fragile glassat what’s not thereFor in this momenttime has stilledAnd yet the streetswith motion filledA paradoxa cruel designTheir world untouchedwhile I lose mine

Under the Spire’s shadow- (📝Marcella Boccia) -It was Decembercold and wildwe met for the first timeboth beguiledUnder the Spiretowering highin O’Connell Streetwhere the darkmeets the skyThe city was alivewith a neon glowthe Christmas lightscasting shadows belowOn the Post Officeso ancientso grandthe colors of historyreflected on the landOnce a place of struggleof voices so loudnow bathed in lightsunder a festive shroudBut we didn’t seethe holiday cheerwe saw the pastand the things we fearThe flickering lightsredgreenand bluemirrored the firethat burned in youWe stood in the shadowof the Spire’s mightthe city alivebut we burnedthrough the nightNo words were neededjust a glancetwo rebels caughtin a twisted danceThe echoes of historyin the air we breathewe stood togetherin what we both believedThe world around usboth dark and brightbut in that momentwe held onto the nightUnder the Spirethe city alivewe were freewe were firewe would survive

The bench between the pages- (📝Marcella Boccia) -In the cold biteof December airwe sat on the bencha world laid bareBetween the Parliament’s stoneso grayand Trinity’s hallswhere memories stayThe library stoodsilent and oldwhere Sinead’s voiceonce sang so boldYeats whisperedin the dust and lightand werebels in the dark of nightWe spoke of poetsof words that burnof verses that twistof hearts that yearnYeatsWildeand Pearseall lost in timetheir words etched in shadowsa rhythma rhymeThe cold ground beneath usthe world passed bybut in that momentyou and Iwere the voices of the pastthe ink-stained soulburning with passionout of controlWe didn’t needthe books to readfor the poets livedin the hearts that bleedIn that library’s silencewe found our voicein the chaos of wordswe made our choiceThe benchthe nightthe rain-soaked streeta rebel’s loveso rawso sweetAnd though the worldmay turn awaywe’ll speak of Yeatsin our own way

Freedom’s edge- (📝Marcella Boccia) -I crave the wildthe untamed skieswhere no one tells mehow to live or dieA rebel heartunchainedunboundI scream in silenceno cage to be foundFreedom is fireburning in my veinsit’s chaos and calmpleasure and painNot a lawnot a rulenot a voice in my earjust the roar of the worldthat I refuse to fearI’ll take the streetsthe backroadsthe fightwhere the shadows danceand the day is nightNo chains will bind meno hands will holdI am the stormthe story untoldYou might say I’m lostor that I’m brokenbut freedom is the truthI’ve always spokenIt’s in the airit’s in my soulit’s the fractured piecesthat make me wholeNo godsno mastersno one to obeyI walk my own pathand I’ll never strayFor freedom’s not a giftit’s a rightto liveto burnto take flightSo hear me nowin the darkened streetI am the wildI am completeNo chainsno rulesno fate to denyjust the truth of the windand the endless sky

Beneath the Celtic sky- (📝Marcella Boccia) -I’ve fought with firewith bloodwith soulto calm the stormto play my roleA heart that beatsin reckless timea borderline pulseso wildso blindBut youwith your northern eyes so clearspeak without wordsyet I feel you nearYour Celtic silenceyour gentle handa quiet strengthlike the shifting sandI’ve tried to learnyour subtle artto bury the chaosthat tears me apartTo hold my tonguewhen the urge ignitesto tame the beastin the dead of nightYou don’t shoutyou don’t screamyou hold your truthin a whispered dreamI’ve watched youcalm in your own skinas I burn with questionsI can’t beginBut here I standbeneath your skiesnot chasing firebut tracing your eyesFor you are a manof the unspokentrueand I am learningthe quiet tooMy punk heart strugglesit always willto walk your pathto be stillYet in this silenceI find my wayrespecting youin the wild disarraySo though I crave the chaosthe screamI’ll hold it back for youit seemsIn your world of gentlenessI’ll standfinding peacein the touch of your hand

Under the shadow of Christ Church- (📝Marcella Boccia) -I stood before Christ Churchcold stone and skywatching the world passfeeling time slip byThe homeless figuresprawled on the bencha statue of lifea soul left to quenchHis gaze was losthis face in despairbut I felt something deeperhanging in the airA reflection of uslost in the darkfighting for breathleaving our markIn that quietwhere the nightmeets the dawnI realized how fragile we arehow drawnto the wreckageto the fightsto the painwe’re all just soulscaught in the rainBut here we areagainst the oddslucky to beagainst the godsWe walk this pathbruised but alivetogetherwe’ll survivewe’ll thriveYou and Ilike the man on the benchdefying the worldwe never flinchIn the shadowswe standwe riseagainst the chaosbeneath the skiesSo let them talkof fortune and famewe’ve foundsomething realsomething untamedUnder the shadowof that cold stone domeI’m lucky to be with youfar from alone

Whispers at the Cliffs- (📝Marcella Boccia) -The last day of the yearI stood aloneat the Cliffs of Moherwhere the wind had grownIt howled like a beastfierce and untamedand I thought of youas I played the gameThe ocean roared belowa deadly kissthe wind’s fingerspulling me into the abyssBut I held on tightlike love’s cruel fightfeeling the rainheavy as the nightIt fell like tearsnot of sorrowbut joyeach drop a memorya fleeting ployI thought of your smileof your laugh so wildof the way you’d speakwith a heart unstyledIn a fisherman’s villagewith the sea at my backI ate the best fish and chipsno looking backSalt on my lipsthe taste of the seabut it was your absencethat haunted meThe waves crashed loudthe wind screamed its talebut you were farbeyond the veilYet in that momentunder the colddark skyI felt you nearthough I couldn’t denyThe emotions tangledlike ropes in the storma punk heart beatingso raggedso wornBut I’ll keep this nightwhere the rain ran freethe memory of youand the wildsalty sea

Stefan’s day under Liffey’s eye- (📝Marcella Boccia) -On Saint Stephen’s Daywe dared to drinkGuinness non-alcoholicmade us thinkIn The Bottle Boyby the Liffey’s edgewe satour thoughts a razor’s wedgeThe river flowedlike a secret toldits waters coldits stories boldAcross the bridgein the misty graythe ship stood stilla ghost of the dayThe famine’s shadowstill lingers hereits grip tighton a land we hold dearBut we toasted the pastwith toast in handa quiet rebelliona love unplannedYou laughed as the ship swayedso distantand I felt the weightboth fierce and persistentThe Irish sailed awayyet stayed insidein every pintin every tideThe Bottle Boy’swarmth couldn’t chase the coldbut there we wereboth young and oldIn that momentbetween the river and skywe were rebelsyou and IThe ship whispersof those long goneof hungerof hopeof battles drawnYet here we arein the dark and lightdrinking to the pastin the fading night

The bronze whisper- (📝Marcella Boccia) -I’d trade my skinfor bronze and stoneto stand in Dublinall aloneAmong the statuescold and talla silent witness to it allA leprechaun’s spella twisted wishturn me to metala ghostly dishIn the squarewhere tourists passI’ll standunmovingin the glassAnd when you walkby with your tales so grandtelling storiesof this cursed landyou’ll stop before mea knowing glanceand speak of a timea fleeting danceOnce she stoodunder a yellow umbrellaher laugh sharpas the city’s fellaAnd in that momentfrozenstillI’ll live againbeneath your willI won’t feel the rainnor the coldbut in your wordsI’ll be boldA memorytrapped in bronzein viewwaiting for youto remember tooSo let the leprechaunwork his charmturn me to bronzewithout alarmFor one sweet dayin the tourist swarmyou’ll say my nameand I’ll feel warm

Above Dublin below my heart- (📝Marcella Boccia) -I soarabove Dublin’s shattered glowcity lights fadingan ember’s lowThe plane hums ona ghost in flightbut it’s youI chase in the dead of nightBelowthe streets are cold and barebut in my chesta firea flareA love unspokena distant achea feeling that twistswith every breakI think of youof the nights we’ve missedof what could’ve beenof what still existsA love that’s buriedin the darkened skyplatonically bleedingyou and INo touchno kissno whispered namejust a longing that burnslike a dangerous flameI’ll leave the citybut you’ll stay insidea ghost in my mindnowhere to hideBack to Italywhere skies are clearbut your shadow will followalways nearI’ll carry you with methough you’ll never knowmy punked-out loveforever in shadowSo as the enginesscream and we fly awayI’ll think of youin the darkest wayA love unclaimeda dream untoldin the air above Dublinsilent and bold

Between Abbey Street and The Point- (📝Marcella Boccia) -I ride the tramthrough Dublin’s veinsclanging tracksin my restless brainAbbey Street fadesthe city sighswhile I trace our memoriesblackened skiesThe cold glasspresses against my skinas the lights bluryour face againIn the hum of wheelsI hear your namea ghosta firean endless flameThe Docklandsstretch like skeletal armswith echoes of your laughteryour charmsBut I am alonejust the rhythm and mein a city that knowsbut will never seeThe Point looms aheadlike a shadowed truththe distance between usa fading youthI think of youof the nights we bledof whispered wordsof what was saidBeckett Lockewaits in the dead of nighta lonely roombut my mind takes flightI taste your presencein the neon glowbut you’re not hereand you won’t showThe tram jolts onthe city is gonebut your ghost still lingersholding onIn the streetsin the glasin the endless rainI’ll carry your memorymy sweet pain

The shadows of Dublin’s pubs- (📝Marcella Boccia) -Beneath the neonwhere Guinness flowsthe heart of Dublinbeats and glowsBut here in the darkwhere secrets keepthe city whisperswhile others sleepSticky floorsand shattered glassghosts of rebelsshadows castA cigarette burnsa fleeting lightin a corner booththe edge of nightYour laughter’s sharpa bladea dareit cuts the smokeit fills the airThe pint in your handa rebel’s crownthe pub’s your kingdomdark and drownedTalk to me of poetsof songs unsungof revolutions foughtand battles wonLet your voice riselike the roar of the seaa hymn to the lostto those who fleeFor Dublin’s pubsare a sacred dena sanctuaryfor broken menBut here we risewith glass in handa rebel’s toasta love unmannedSo drink with melet’s haunt the nightwhere shadowsburn in amber lightYour Dublin’s darkbut I’ll play my parta punkedout queenfor your whiskey heart

Fire and frost- (📝Marcella Boccia) -Your beard burns reda rebel’s blazea wildfire litin the ancient hazeEyes like shardsof shattered skiescold as truthsharp as liesBut beneath the frosta warmth residesan heart that beatswhere shadow hidesYou wear your softnesslike a scara quiet rebela falling starYour words cut deepcarved from loreechoes of mythsbattlesand moreA poet’s tonguewith a fighter’s gritwisdom dressedin a punk misfitLet me tastethe fire you fear to showthe embered soulyou let barely glowI’ll wear your darknessyour lightyour flamea whispered secreta feral nameFor you are Irelandin flesh and bonewild and tenderfierce and aloneSo take my handlet’s break apartI’ll kiss the fireand you’ll burn my heart

The city of hollows souls- (📝Marcella Boccia) -Three dayswithout the pills I takethat bind my mindthat mend and breakMy thoughts are scatteredsharp and wilda childa ghostan hollowed childThrough Dublin’s streetsI walk aloneA strangerin my skin and boneThe world feels farso coldso nearA dream that flickersfull of fearThe faces blurthe voices crackA silence roarsthen pulls me backThe weightof every desperate pleaA burdentoo immense to see.The beggars’ handsthe eyes that pleadThe suffering soulin desperate needI feel their painI feel their lossA tide that crashesraw and crossYet stillI walkI feel too muchThe ache of others’ soulsI clutchTheir griefbecomes my beating heartI am tornand torn apartDublinin your cold embraceI walk through shadowslost in spaceWhere all is strangeand none is wholeand I ambut a fractured soulEach step I takea fleeting traceof who I wasof who I faceA shadowpassing through the dayA bodythat will fade away

Emerald rebellion- (📝Marcella Boccia) -Beneath the veilof endless greenwhere cliffs kiss skiesin shadows keenyour land bleeds wilda rebel’s songa hymn of ghostswho still belongThe winds howl darkthrough broken spiresfields of ashlong-dead firescathedrals crackedtheir truths undoneyour Ireland standsa feral sonRain carvesscars on ancient stoneyour story whisperednever knownWhiskey burnswhere hearts should beatpoisoned dreamson cobbled streetsBut ohyour veins run fiercewith fighta whiskey-drunkmoonlit nighta broken crowna shattered throneIrelandyou are darkaloneTake my handlet’s haunt the barstrace constellationsforgotten scarsShow me your rageyour tender wrathtogether we’ll walkthe untamed pathFor beautyhere is sharp and rawa love that bitesa wolf’s wild pawSo burn with melet’s tear it apartyour rebel Irelandmy restless heart