Then it was the confusion that made more,
In still talk the verbal scum brought bore,
Little was to be said but profane words,
And soon in the night were broken worlds,
Ere come was she in banshee took to rise,
Whose only heart could not amount in size,
As ice she littered words over warm heart,
So much not even cupid could throw the dart,
With tears mounting away with clogged nose,
Is no sight more poorly her soul but froze?
To cling on hope for words alone to say,
And when her heart is squeezed she’ll pray,
For every blood poured is her terror in wait,
At the touch of fate she is but merely bait,
What lies spoken are what Banshee she is,
And yet kind words she lies brings her this,
Angels brought to bring are flight to free,
Save this innocent flower her dream to flee,
A loud Banshee lurks only to pluck and tear,
Having lost all herself and nature fair,
She seeks to lull her into Shelob’s lair,
Where in night stirs how truly she’ll dare,
Little by little draws pleasure from pain,
Though kindred friends alone is she in vain,
They carry her out of the darkest depths,
They seek to carry her down to safer steps,
No tears alone can betray her love in dark,
Leaves the Banshee forever is now a gawk,
And forever the Banshee shall grow old,
With no love is but her heart in cold,
Meanwhile, our dearest Angel dances to life,
No more the broken tears she’ll face in strife.

Category:
Poetry, Romance, Works
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