In a far-off land

‘neath a hill of grass and stone

lives the Bean Sidhe.

Cloaked in rags

Dreaded silver locks

Tattoos of woad telling stories of her life

Her face a skull

One clear eye seeing without

The cloudy one seeing within

Her skeletal finger pointing out the eternal

Her life will never end

With her knowing eyes she’s seen it all

Nothing you could say would surprise

Nothing you do could shock

She sees only Truth

A mirror for those who dare –

who can endure her eternal screaming.

A witness to all of humanity’s sorrow

and a voice for all who weep for humanity’s doom –

They’ve no one to blame but themselves.

I am She and She is me.

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