Wail Of The Banshee

Wail Of The Banshee
by Edward Wolverton@2008

She cries by night
at the sail of wind.
Doom,and gloom
shadowed the weigh,
weir of tears
and scoffed at bay,
awaiting the voice
of a banshee song.

Wail, my beauty
till death has robbed,
the night cries
and shadow eyes come.
A voice
long distant,
a voile and volant curse,
volatile upon life's mist,
brings my slothful slope
beneath the stone.

The Devinne ghost
of the Emerald Isle
to visit in the dark of night,
riding the trail to my ravaged door,
and naked be my injustice
to hound my human book,
aloof the gargoyle's eye,
and a gait the manor house ruin,
gainfully gaggles my gaiety
with rufous blood.

Rumbling the shadows of wind,
the razor sharp of raze to my nerve
to rattle my brain,
and quiet my soul ready
for a time of death,
the quietism of the Queen
to give me rest.

She howls,
indeed to my thrust,
and gust she shall scream
deeply into my ears
the gallows song,
and gala to gape
upon my eyes no more,
as she waits just outside my door.