Letter to Dublin

Dear Dublin,
I've seen your pubs, where the stout is your blood. The music of the old harp rings far and wide like your rolling green mountains. Voices howl with humility and smiles, a spirit that can't be defeated saying "We're all in it together, come what may..."
And I've seen your clubs, where you paint a mask on and sell yourself as bait and place yourself on the hook. You learn and obediently recite the songs from the falling empire. Can you not realize you're quieting your own heart? I can see this happening, don't you?
Only because you've charmed me so greatly I write this letter to you. Turn back now! Avoid the stagnant water and recognize it's effect on the fight that's born into you. Let the mandolins and flutes sing your joy and sadness.
Thanks for everything.

Jeremiah