Poem -

Banshee

Banshee

Beware harbinger wails
Foretold tis quietus tales
Banshee of badlands
Fetters hourglass sands

Harken she evermore forlorn
Time of disquietude tis born
Tombstone seeks thou name
Devil exacts his claim

Hollow tis fresh dug grave
Tis one’s soul she’ll crave
No matter time or place
Lonely tis empty space

Come to me she calls.
Reside neath Darkfalls.
Grave now etched with care.
Entombed no need to despair.
Β 

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