The Banshee

They heard the banshee's cry  
 
Stricken with grief  
 
It sounds as though she wants to die  
 
Burying in her pillow so deep  
 
 
They not know why she wails  
 
Although death may come in suit  
 
They see her white face pale  
 
Then came the stoop  
 
 
They tried to grasp her  
 
But the disease in her mind held not loose  
 
For she was a ghost trapped in solid  
 
And she could not break through  

(J)