The Banshee

The Banshee

Within the tangle of twisted branch, upon the Emerald hill,
You hear her mourning doleful cries, when all the night is still.
As night approaches dawn, ever closer she does creep,
She raps upon your windowpane, making it impossible to sleep.
She flies amongst the treetops; she jigs upon your roof,
She screams down sooted chimney, though terror stricken; you try to remain aloof.
She rattles golden doorknob, she tugs with all her might,
She performs her writhing death dance, beneath frosted pale moonlight.
Why does she forever haunt you, why does this banshee cry?
Why does she never give you rest, on your doorstep the truth does lie?
For did you not tally with her, did you not lead her astray?
Did you not vow in heat of passion that you would marry her one-day?
Did you not then dismiss her, ignore her tears of pain,
When she assured you of your paternity, did you not scoff at such a claim?
Did she not then vow vengeance on your home and family?
Did she not vow with dying breath; that no more peaceful night would you see?
This is now the price you pay for your cheating, lying ways!
This banshee will always be yours…
Until your dying day!