All at once the memories
come crashing to the fore
transporting me back in time
where I was yet once before

My hands began to tremble
shivers shook me to the core
sweat began to bead my brow
the clock struck half past four

The keening wail pierced the night
the Banshee's mournful cry
heralding yet another
passing of my kind

The creature it has followed us
from an early time
a transgression of an ancestor
brought this curse to life

Our family has a history
we came from on the moors
just poor Celtic farmers once
a past that is no more

Warily I look around
from ceiling the the floor
it seems that it has found me
its duty carried forth

I once thought this was fantasy
a scary story told
by my aging grand parents
when the nights were dark and cold

But now the horror strikes me
as I settle to the floor
I am the last one of my kind
The Banshee will cry no more