banshee veiled her secrets under the shouts
and the devoured forest in her embrace
so slowly but surely she grew the sprouts
for the madness that ruined her pretty face
keening and grieving the death she o' loathed
the passing of one she knew from her dreams
crying out with a mind that’s so bloated
that there’s no space for her to think her things
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Author:
Anna I. (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: June 18th, 2024 08:24
- Comment from author about the poem: Heard Henry Cowell\\\'s piano piece The Banshee about two months ago. I think it\\\'s wonderful. If you read this poem and have any opinions, write to me in the comments, because I\\\'m 12 years old and I need opinions/critics. :)
- Category: Fantasy
- Views: 0
Online)
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