On the Cliffs of Moher
a banshee wails her pain
She calls forth lost souls
drifting between the realms
She is a spirit of the night;
the Mistress of Death
She yearns for a heart willing to believe
for her's is too closed to be free
A guardian angel beckons her
He holds a child in his arms
a child not this world
and yet not of his
Born immortal she has no wings
He steps into the darkened night
The banshee's lungs filled
Screams of anguish carried throughtout the land
Mystic eyes opened
seeing more than the nothingness that greeted her
Faeries fled from out of shadows
Leprechauns came by way of rainbows
their silver turned gold once again
The phoenix was reborn
as gargoyles shed their stone
Dragons flew high
and unicorns regained their magic
The child kept silent
for she now belonged
A being on the Emerald Isle
as all was restored to the Cliffs of Moher
 
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