A Letter From A Belfast Sniper.

Dear Megan.
I write you this letter with a torn heart, my heart beats for you, It pains me that I cannot behold your springly figure. There is nothing but pain in this city. Every day, we are at it with the Brits, anytime I see a Landover, filled with arrogant Brits, I spit in disgust.

 Megan, I am doing you a favor by putting a bullet in a Brits head.
How is Rovan now? Oh! How I long to see both of you, My Priceless treasures. You are all I have left in this repugnant world, Ma and Da are gone now, Belfast was bloody yesterday, 'Bloody Sunday' That's what the Brits called it. Jesus, Mary and Joseph were on our side yesterday. I felt joyous as I watched the Brits go down, Fifty answered the devil's call very early, The war will soon be over, Megan, I will soon return, Then you, Rovan and I would sit in the orchard, Taking calm sips from a cupper, Then we would enter the buggy and go on to church, I've always wanted to go to church, Tis' a pity I haven't spoken to God for so long.
My words would go on and on, But my heart can only conjure one too many, We are planning a major offensive, One that would see us as victors, I hope that you live to see the day,The Union Jack's flag goes down, I will forever be your soldier, Your freedom fighter, a just rebel, as the flowers by the lake sprout up new leaves, so will my love for you rise and soar to a blissful height.
My body moves for you, and for you alone will its harmonious task continue. Like the wind that has no beginning and end, our love will trample on adversities and stand tall; I yearn for you.
Your Soldier,
Danny.