|The Banshee to Dublintown Came submitted 2009.06.30 11:12 AM by Thornicus viewed 1991 times|
The banshee to Dublintown came, in a flash,
Like a bullet that pierced the blue sky.
Demanding both silver and gold 'stead of cash,
To vociferate one lonely cry:
"A sort of homecoming is all that I want!
This isn't too much to implore!
Just give me my due, as I still haven't found
What I seem to have been looking for!"
"My desire is simple; my needs are most clear;
And I have no mysterious ways.
I ask only for silver and gold, and a beer,
To enjoy on this beautiful day."
Then, seizing a man as the clock ticked eleven,
The banshee ran to One Tree Hill,
As he cast the bloke into the river below,
He declared in a voice dark and shrill:
"I'll rob you of pride, in the name of your love,
And I'll kill you like this drowning man!
Then I'll steal the names from most all of your streets,
Except for Smithfield and South Anne."
"Just do as I ask; you have seconds to spare
Before I turn you into a wreck.
I'll ravage your women, your children, and homes,
And perhaps even Bert's discotheque."
The people of Dublin cried out in alarm,
As they puzzled o'er what they should do.
Then one fearless Irishman stood up and said,
"All I want, my dear banshee, is you."
"You've shown up on this bloody Sunday, my friend;
Most unusual for one so vile.
When I look at the world, I just cannot imagine
Life without you on our sacred isle."
Disconcerted and wide-eyed, the banshee stared at him
And scratched his chin most waringly.
The man forged, "Your laborious, deep, haunting voice,
Is the very thing that captures me."
"For your sounds, like a song, are most heavenly sent,"
Claimed the tall and courageous young man.
"Even better than the real thing?" quizzed the demon.
"Most assuredly. Now hear my plan:"
"I'll teach you to write," the Dubliner continued,
"We can author some stories for boys,
Tales of elevation, of grace, and of mothers
whose kids disappeared in the noise."
"Unforgettable anthems, they'll burn like a fire
In the hearts of your own countrymen.
So forget about silver, or gold, or a beer;
You'll be paid for your use of a pen."
Clearly stuck in a moment he couldn't get out of,
The phantasm perpended these words.
In a short little while, he then made his decision,
Which he'd never regret afterwards.
"I'll do it!" the eidolon promised to him,
"Either with or without you, I'll try!"
"Oh, that's wonderful!" cried the man. "I'm Adam Clayton,
And l'll follow your lead, by and by."
"Just promise that you won't be bad," warned a sailor.
"I shan't," said the banshee with glee.
"As sure as my name, which is Bono," he smiled,
"I'll ne'er make Ireland ashamed of me!"
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