Celtic Crows

Driving through the green island, the misty hills lit by the twilight
Breathing the frozen air, reminding me that the dark season is near
The mystic landscape makes me stop, take a walk through shadow fields
Three crows pass me by and in awe I remember their names and I call out
To the queens of war:
Nemain, Morrigan, Babh Catha
Three crows fly
Like ghosts from another time
Above me in the sky
In the shape of the blackest birds they once ruled the battlefields
Screaming for courage, screaming for vengeance, reaping the souls of the fallen
And all enemies would flee in fear at the sight of the grim war sisters
Oh mighty goddesses, I draw my sword, with you by my side I won’t fight my
battles alone
Nemain, Morrigan, Babh Catha…