Nightingale of the darkness,
Prophet of the scared,
Ghostly singer for the lifeless,
Voice of cold despair!

Whom you cry for, lonely spirit?
What your dreams enclose?
Tear the night apart, and fill it
With that song of yours!

Banshee's mourning over us
In this dark and rainy night,
Crying over unseen scars,
Over everlasting fight...

What it sees, that we can't see?
Why it's deep and trembling voice
Makes my scared soul flee?
Why I shiver to the bones?

Keeper of the scaring lore!
Witness of the death!
Tell your story, I implore!
Please, don't make me guess,

If you were a human, or an elf,
Whether you were rich or very poor,
And what happened to you after death,

What is holding you in this cold moor?

But I ask to no avail,
Banshee never speaks.
And it's bitter moans and wailing
Make my heart so weak...

Tear asunder all my dreams,
Make me run in fear!
How could one forget those screams?
They hurt, like a spear...

Spear of loneliness and tears,
Weapon of the damned
Calls upon you such a shiver,
No one could withstand!

I am lucky to sit here
And tell you this tale.
I've survived banshee's spear,
But many would fail...

30 October 2003