The Phantasmal Library {poetry and short stories}

[Ganyu]

Banshee
Like the buzzing of mosquitoes,
nails crying against a board,
some shrill untamed throat
twists the arms of ears
In a chapel service.
In a cafe. In a mall.
In a crowded train.

Bodies squirm,
hiding discomfort between rigid lips,
feigning ignorance to
the riddle in the air, its origins
neither angel nor demon knows.

The closest to the call
watches over the conundrum
that veils truth
in its discordance.
Mature minds struggle to grasp,
like tiny fingers in curious stretching.

In arm-locked cradles and pushed perambulators,
In midnight cots and afternoon naps,
In springtime park walks and urban rush hours,
Life demands to be heard - its enigmatic song.

Author's Note: The subject matter should be obvious. In actuality, I dislike crying babies. It's odd how I wrote this poem.