By: Lady A

A banshee howls in the dark of night,
Screaming cries of piercing fright.
Moaning heard upon the moors,
Sorrow felt along the shores.

Anguish, the song of the mossy stones,
Echoes loudly with each groan.
Grief is transfixed, she has power,
To bend and break and then devour.

Tears flow on the River Grief,
Endless cascading salty relief.
Whimpering sounds begin to sleep,
Praying for one night of peace.

Not long when Grief returns,
A silent scream, then painful yearns.
Wailing, weeping in bottomless depths,
A gaping wound, profoundly bereft.