March 15, 2009
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I am the banshee,
a maidenly shade of magical descent,
tethered to this realm of beating hearts and rushing blood,
screaming in sorrow and agony,
and whispered of from generations past
throughout the Emerald Isle.
My howls of misery echo through these lush fields,
mourning the passing of souls into the sunless lands.
I sob for the wicked,
weep for the righteous,
moan for the innocent,
and wail for my loved ones departing,
but I cannot refrain from letting forth a whimper
for anyone who hears and observes my lament.
Those who listen to and glimpse my grief-stricken shrieking,
realize their destiny has been altered.
In mere moments, the merciless fates
have cut the thread of life,
and my unlucky audience find themselves breathing their last breath
and soon crossing the river Styx,
to wander forever as spirits,
in the gloomy land below the earth.
Although I cry for destinies coming to an abrupt end,
I cry that they have passed to the other world unhindered,
while I roam alone awaiting my chance,
to end this seemingly endless torment.
When your time comes,
do not become like me.
Journey home to your final resting place,
leave behind this world of cruelty, war, and lost love,
embrace what I cannot have without fear,
but do not forget me.
Come to the land of unending green,
be my hero,
set me free.

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