My ruination was of my own seed. Mere kingship of the Laighin I coveted When all she coveted was greed, each deed she did perform was as if my lands had been clove by the Lochlainn’s axe. Weak she goaded. Weak she scolded as I did consolidate my borders From the threat of the foreigner black But Gormlaith ruined that by cuckolding with a Fionngall fat. Leader of the thieves who stole Áth Cliath Troublesome and lustful of greed As was the whore herself And so was my fate bound ever tighter to hers. Marriage followed marriage ending finally in conflict. Gleann Mama a time I would like to forget Rekindled by that usurper’s pup Weak she goaded. Weak she scolded "Brían be more noble than you" A temper uncontrolled my weakness be Before I’d recovered she had laid her trap. Before I had time to return to Naas she had started this battle of which now I am part. The Whore I name her and here be the reason, her legs did spread so she would have her way. And so her army consisted of foreigners leering – she had offered herself for that day. What a day, what a day. Blood fills the rock pools. The dead drift away. Entrails and guts and heads litter the battlefield. Lochlainnaigh ships swept out to sea by Mac Lír and his Minions and now they cannot flee so now they will join me. This would be amusing if this were sung in verse by a Bard at a kingly fire Alas it be me Mael Mórdha ranting. I see Mór Ríogán and my own funeral pyre.