The wind is blowing, <br />twisting my thoughts around in my head <br />as I want, am wont to flee; <br />have already fled. <br /> <br />The trees are screaming, <br />crying in apathy, silent in dread: <br />I’m afraid of leading, <br />and of where I am being led. <br /> <br />I walk to you, talking <br />through the chaotic confusion, <br />your memory bright, a translucent illusion. <br />I ramble on nightly this path of seclusion, <br />with the wind <br />and the trees <br />and the banshees <br />all singing <br />“Stranger, companion, intrusion, intrusion! ” <br />as I’m swept along in this blinding delusion.<br /><br />Zoe Nyght<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/banshee-song/
