A nationalist lay dying

I got it then, the virus brought in by second home owners.

Lying on a Hospital Bed being treated by Doctors and Nurses from the United Nations.

I wont be dying for Wales as I had hoped

I will be dying in the name of Globalism.

Here I lie between sleep and apnoea

I open one eye and see Noson Lawen followed by Ffermio on S4C and I think 'a great man threatened to fast to death for this.'

Like a drowning man sees his past flash in front of him I see Tryweryn, Cilmeri and Efail Wen.

Heno is interrupted by a news flash,

"Trump’s Proud Boys have stormed Capitol Hill."

Putin must be pissing his pants in laughter as the guy in the next bed’s incontinence pads are changed.

There’s talk that William will become the next Prince of Wales but instead of Caernarfon this time, they will just make do with a light lunch at the Grosvenor Hotel in Chester.

My vision becomes blurred, all I see are Drakeford and Johnson melding into one.

A gang in Green rush to my bed “It must be the Plaid Cymru dream team”

Sadly, it is the underpaid healthcare assistants ready to give my bum a clean.

“Have you been talking out of your arse again Mr Williams? there’s a lot of verbal diarrhoea here to clean up”

I smile weakly

“Blame it on Them” I croak “Blame Edward I”

"That was a long time ago. Is this your Ivy leaf on the floor?”