When Shadows Haunt the Blood-Stained Earth
Hail! Great Phantom Queen, Thou, Morrígan!
Thy Cimmerian countenance o’er the field
Of war-struck men doth bring the doom they dread,
And stir in the valiant hearts a flame,
O, Mistress of the Warriors’ Death!
With crow-like visions, Thou dost reveal
Their fates to warriors destined to depart.
In each premonition darkly woven,
Bound in the folds of melancholic cloth,
By You, we hear the banshee’s mournful cry.
In visions fierce, as one might gaze upon
His own pale visage in a shadowed lake,
They see thee washing armor drenched in gore,
A symbol of their imminent demise,
Yet still, Thou summon courage in their breast.
Badb, Macha, and Anand take thy name,
Names like shards of iron fused as one;
A triad of force, a fearful sisterhood,
Guardians of the land and keepers of
A sacred bond to the people huddled near.
Soared to the heights atop Thy vast dark wings,
A crow in flight, unbending in Thy power,
Thy beauty lying in the fury of
The storm, a creature of enchanted lore,
O, Phantom Queen, Thy strength we do implore.
Inscribed upon the fields of Magh Tuireadh,
A tryst with Dagda led to triumph’s call,
The Fomorians cast into the sea,
And by thy word, foretold the end of days.
A hymn of reverence now we sing,
In praise of The Mórrígan, so Great,
A chant of piety and sacred love,
To sway the hearts of men, to bend their minds,
And to their knees, let them surrender all.
Partake in worship of the Phantom Queen,
The goddess strong, and know her passions vast,
As crow, as seer, as warrior, and wife,
Feel echoes of her heart, a primal beat,
That to our own, let drums resound within.
