I fled far from Rome, death as a traitor should my identity ever be known. Many were the tears I wept, before ere from my tent I crept thinking of all the honorable that had died to feed a madman's pride. Oh! the deceptive twist of history when facts are colored to support what they want us to see. Chasing the snakes from Ireland is said to be one of Patrick's charms, but they fail to mention that the snakes were tattooed on the Priestess' arms. Truth is that Patrick in his bigoted way forced innocents to follow his say, no longer allowed to worship and be free their god now the one Patrick determined it to be. Ireland has languished in poverty way too long, 'tis time to dance once more to a Pagan song. Return the snakes to their chosen land and drive away Patrick's bigoted band. Free the land of the Sidhe from the desperation of forced Christianity put freedom back into the hands of the Irish born and let each answer to their chosen horn. In my heart I long to see Ireland Pagan once more, children of the Goddess dancing from shore to shore, never again to be forced to flee or pray to alien god on bended knee. The three leaves of Shamrock Green be Maid, Mother and Crone of Goddess Queen, to always enlighten truth of the Earth that Death will always be followed by rebirth.