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You think you want me,
that I am what you desire
Fool, you don't know me
You don't even begin to understand
My fierceness would make you tremble
My fight would make you cower
You may dress in black
and line your eyes with kohl
but I can see the fear
that lives there
When you feel the whisper
of my raven feathers and the word
"No" catches in your throat,
it will be too late
Don't say I didn't warn you.
in which we are asked to write about a Celtic (or other) god. I went with the Morrigan, Celtic goddess of Death and War
