In times of old,

Existed a young and troubled boy,

That preferred the forest to meaningless toys,

Or so I was told…


He would wander eerily,

Like a ghastly figure in a sea of trees,

Fearless of the many dangers,

Be they on two or four legs,

It seemed not to bother,

What in the dark could hither.


Many amongst us believed he had lost his mind,

While several others claimed he had been bewitched,

By wicked forces that corrupt and spellbind,

Yes! Those that prey on mankind:

Demons, undead and Liches.


As for I,

I believed he had found something extraordinary,

Something that was worth dying prematurely,

And die he did,

This poor, disturbed kid.


…He was never seen again…


That is until I found his lifeless body,

Half rotten under a giant oak,

His face, a mixture between agony and serenity,

His remains, covered by a stolen black cloak.


I cried.

Just by the river that was flowing gently nearby.


And then everything became clear,

I saw her floating near.


A young girl in dress, drowned and decayed,

A stale princess,

By whom he was obsessed.

I could imagine everything.

She died during a starry night,

Because of the absence of light,

Or perhaps because of a fright.

Maybe one of those things lurking…


He could not bare her departure,

He could not bare,

To no longer hear her,

To live without her love, her care,

And so the devil he dared.


He came by her corpse during the coldest sunset,

And wrote a letter, an epithet…


Here are the last words, of this young poet:


“I fell in love with you entirely,

When I first stumbled upon you in those lonely parts.

Your words seduced my heart,

For they were not spoken through your mouth,

But poured in my head and soul directly.

You promised me you would wake up and join me in life,

If I killed someone’s wife.

Which I did and regretted bitterly,

But then you shrieked,

In my head continually,

And remained in your physical immobility.

The voices became unbearable,

You told me on an haunting tone,

That you would devour my bones,

And that a young maiden you were not,

But rather a maleficent Crone.”


I fell in love with you entirely,

My beloved banshee…

Drown me,

Crown me,

In the Otherworldly.

-Beldam, 128 yf


One thought on “Beansidhe

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