Cry of the Banshee

She travels on the many wails
of the grief she keens,
crying for the love she’s lost,
for the lover that she needs

Carried on by thunderstorms
transported by the rain,
she floats and flies on through the air,
in fury and in pain

Her shrieks do fill the bleakest night
‘neath a dark and angry sky:
feral cries and primal screams--
if only she would die

But she journeys onward still,
into the night with moon above,
and her howls are the vessel
by which she seeks out her beloved