Through the darkened woods she roams
Her mournful cry pierces the night
The wailing Banshee, searching for souls
To take them to the Otherworld's light
Her hair is wild, her eyes are red
Her skin is pale, her dress is torn
But fear not mortal, for she only seeks
Those who are doomed to be reborn
Legend has it, her presence foretells
The imminent death of a loved one
Her cry, a warning, a last farewell
Before their journey into the unknown
With each step, her cry grows louder
Echoing through the misty trees
Whispers of sorrow, cries of despair
As she brings death upon the breeze
The Banshee, a timeless being
A messenger of fate and sorrow
Her wails a symphony of grief
For those who will not see tomorrow
But do not scorn the Banshee's cry
For she carries a heavy burden
To guide the departed souls
To their final resting curtain
So when you hear her mournful wail
Close your eyes, say a prayer
For the Banshee, she is just a messenger
Of life's inevitable unfair
And when the night falls and the Banshee comes
Be not afraid, but embrace her cry
For she is a reminder of life's fragile hold
Before we too, bid this world goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
Cold Nights ||Poems||
PoetrySometimes I just need a way to express how I feel when I can't put it into words, I'm sure we all feel that way whether you're a teen or young adult. Mental health deserves to be heard, you deserve to be heard.
