The Hag's Lament

The Hag’s Lament



I would tell you of myself, if I may

My name is old and long, rusted in time

Gwrach-y-Rhibyn, the hag in the mist

My existence is poor, watching, waiting,

My image bodes ill, your end, indeed



I tire of this, I yearn for warmth

Death & tragedy promised, always delivered

The mists sap light and colour, muting life

I long to shout and warn, my tongue frozen

Slow down, cut down, walk safely



I am what I was shaped by fate to be

The harbinger, terrifying, freezing, absolute

Cursed to stand at the crossroads, weeping

You people always end, hastening to the edge

Watch, beware the hag in the mist



Seljo ‘11