The Banshee’s Lament

A soft steady chant

a whispering whine

begins a slow waltz

erupting as the screams begin;

The Banshee’s lament.

Plucking at coiled hair

tears tracking down soiled cheeks

I can hear the soundless tune

that she has wept

for centuries

announcing our very own deaths.

Time and time eternal

we have tried to outrun

this family’s inheritance

of a crone sitting in the willow chair

keening and wailing

calling out souls to rest.

The Banshee’s Lament

a tale from the old country

brought forth in the new.

The song so seductive

blood falls apace

as I lay at her feet

my death to commence.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

 November 26/17

Author: Jay-lyn Doerksen

I am a single hard working mom in her 40's. I have always written poetry and I love words. I live with depression and its ups downs. This is a space where I can create and write all that I need to.

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