The Banshee That Can Not Scream
by @B14
In the north there is a man who screams when the waters sing
For he once came cross the banshee of the seaside spring
And in that failing light saw wrapped her pallid strands
Round the whole of her one and sallow pointed hand
To the trunk-grown sword and verdant surcoat 'tween
A phantom defiler, a hanged man, the crime unseen
She sullen moved to mournful wail, deep of soul
But found no purchase in mortal air to extol
For where once was this sad shadow's throat
A cruel sentence had some former blade wrote
In a sick and seeping horror the man did freeze
As the banshee descended towards the trees
At length the water sprang from earth again
His movement restored, bloods color to skin
The greatest terror he recalled in lonesome woe
Is of the dead woman forced to her silent sorrow