Mists of the Morrigan -celtic song-

Mists of the Morrigan
In the mist she waits, a shadowed queen,
With eyes that see what none have seen.
The crows above, they scream her name,
The Morrigan, the bringer of flame.
Through fields of blood, where warriors fell,
She walks between the veil of hell.
Her cloak of darkness wraps the land,
With every step, she takes command.
The winds obey, the rivers freeze,
The whispers travel on the breeze,
She speaks of battles yet to come,
Of fate, of death, of war begun.
The Morrigan, her shadow calls,
She watches as the mighty fall.
Her wings of night, they cloud the sky,
And in her gaze, all must die.
The sky is dark, the clouds are torn,
A storm is born where dreams are worn.
The Morrigan, with eyes so cold,
Foretells the end of heroes bold.
Her ravens circle, black as night,
They bring the omen, spread the fright.
No warrior escapes her sight,
In her domain, there is no light.
The Morrigan, her shadow calls,
She watches as the mighty fall.
Her wings of night, they cloud the sky,
And in her gaze, all must die.
Upon the field, she plants her sword,
Her voice the only final word.
The crows descend, the earth they claim,
The fallen rest, forgotten names.
The Morrigan, she fades away,
But her dark presence ever stays.
The battle’s end, but not the fight,
For in her gaze, all lose the light.
In the mist, she fades, the queen of war,
But still she lingers, forevermore.
The crows will fly, the winds will wail,
The Morrigan writes the final tale.