In years hence as yet uncounted,
The Buddhist Pope as elected pontiff,
Shall reign supreme in China.
The people of Ulster shall rise again,
Returning to their homeland.
The baying hound shall lead them.
The rivers of the province,
Shall run with Orange blood.
The sacred bird shall desert the tower,
A Prince of the clans,
Shall claim the empty throne.
The Bishop of Rome, blinkered,
Shall sit amongst the ruin.
© The Chattering Magpie (1998)
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