Banshee

That is not dead
Which can eternal lie
Yet with strage aeons
Even death may lie
H.p. lovecraft

I bewail my destiny
A foible of mine
But her voice tortures my mind

I yearn for her bosom
I fear her sway
My eternal blemish
Is her embrace

She whispers: chose a realm
These two are the preferred ones:
Hell – where your soul reduces to ashes
Heaven – where you´ll be drowned