The Unseelie Prince

Never walk the woods at night with anger in your heart.

When Winter’s winds are howling, -

do not dare to walk beneath the trees when skies are dim and dark.

Do not throw away your life our risk your very soul,

The dark, Unseelie Faeries walk the earth,

When Winter’s icy hand has gripped our hearts and nights are long and cold.

When the Harvest Moon has come and gone,

The gentle faeries journey back to Tir Na Nog,

And take away their laughter and their music and their song.

Then the good folk from the villages and towns,

Have sense enough to lock their doors and pull their shutters down.

For only fools will walk the lonely roads when the Unseelie are around.

Did you hear a rustling among the hedgerows as you journeyed home too full of wine?

Did not the creaking of that tree send shivers down your spine?

And as you walk, you hear an echo to your steps and wonder if another, walks behind.

And now, you dare not look around for fear of what you’ll find.

Your wine has turned to water, but you dare not stop to pee,

You’re very sure you saw a pair of gleaming eyes behind that Hawthorne tree.

You dare not run, as running would just add more pleasure to the huntsman’s gory fun.

You wonder if your life is over after only just a score of Summer's suns.

You dare not walk too slow. The dawn is very far away,

And you have quite a way to go before the night is done.

You purse your lips and clasp your hands and try so very had to pray,

But prayers come hard to those who only go to church on Christmas day.

You hear his laughter in the wind that’s howling through the trees.

And there’s no point in begging, - there’s no point in useless pleas.

The Prince of the Unseelie Fae has come to take your wretched soul,

And you will never live to raise a family to love you when you’re old.

You scream in terror and you throw yourself upon the ground,

As in the trees the huntsmen circle ‘round and ‘round.

If only you could pray, perhaps the angels or the saints might find a way,

To bring you safely home when comes the dawning of the day?

If only you had once been kind, your lips might find an honest prayer.

And when the heavens opened you might find a kindly spirit who could speak out for you there.

But not a single candle, have you ever lit for all your sins. You’ve never made an effort to atone.

And in your heart, you know that you are lost, and you are never going home.

Patrick W Kavanagh06/02/2019

Art by Bill Oliver