In the dead of night you will hear me cry,
I [bad word] to earth and you will die.
You cannot escape this terrible fate,
Your time [bad word] and the hour is late.

In the robes and veils of grey,
In peaceful rest I cannot lay. [bad word] to your home to warn of death,
I walk the land but draw no breath.

I take the form of a hooded crow,
And gaze at the carnage of battle below.
Or on land, in the guise of a Hare,
Paralyzing victims with my piercing stare.

I am the Goddess of sword and spear,
sorrowful mourn, means I am near.
My presence will fill all men with dread,
I wash the blood from the cloths of the dead.