Banshee Call 

From those decrepit ruin walls
Hollow cries creep over the moor.
Something wicked, eerily calls
Whining deathly tears of dire lore.
Night breeze, like morbid ice
Hauntingly drifts among the trees.
From yon desolate edifice
Come cries that make blood freeze.
But a grave now; those castle walls,
Naught as her haunting grounds.
And when you hear the Banshee calls; 
Know is how your death sounds.
For few live to tell their tales
Of their acquaintance with cries at night.
For when the Banshee wails
Nigh never do they greet dawn's light.
Then when one hears the Banshee's call
A wretched soul is destined to fall.

Inner Torment

Lost in misery my soul burns.
It sleeps but sorrow always returns.
If of a memory's cost 
Or in Limbo where hope is lost. 
This hell will not yield.
There is no mercy upon this battlefield.
Only footprints left by death. 
Only tears that strangle one's breath.
Dark requiem in fading light 
Sorrow awakens with the night. 
Abominations from my inner torment
Rising in a horrid ascent.

From South-Western Michigan, Jerry Langdon has lived in Germany since the early 90's. He is an artist and poet. His works bathe in a darker side of emotion and fantasy. He has released five books of Poetry titled "Temperate Darkness an Behind the Twilight Veil", “Death and other cold things” “Rollercoaster Heart” and “Frosted Dreams” Jerry is also the editor and publisher of the literary magazine Raven Cage Zine poetry and prose. His poetic inspirations are derived from poets such as Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Frost and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. As well as from various rock bands. His apparently twisted mind, twists and intertwines fantasy with reality.