She is the Banshee (Part 1)

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She lures me in like a wanderer mist; she embraces the cold, like the caress from a kiss-

she aimlessly searches, and finds no more; her hands are the key, and her body, the door-

she calls out a name, for every single thing; her eyes are the spirit, and-

her soul, the wing-

she drifts across the fields of fog; her voice, like the wind, amongst this bog-

she embraces the cold, forever like a phantom; endlessly wandering;

inevitable phantom-

she calls out a name, for every single thing; she is the talon;

and her soul, the wing-

Copyrightcopyright March 21, 2014

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