A Waking Dream

A thousand voices keen at night
a thousand voices wail.
Thousands more will cry from fright,
then thousands more will fail.

They keen so very loudly,
it pierces through your head.
They used to walk so proudly,
now they dwell among the dead.

What can we do? I think I know,
We’ll open up the door.
Let’s find the key and show the way,
to all the healing lore.

We’ll drain the blood and transfer it
to those who need it most.
Those who’ve come to benefit,
must now learn now to boast.

Then in the very dead of night,
in the coldest darkest hour.
A single voice both clear and bright,
can be heard from near the tower.

It echoes through the grounds and further,
it harbours all our grief.
Now is the time to nurture,
but that time must be swift and brief.

I need your help, I’m begging you,
please help me through this phase.
I need to stop the wind that blows,
and keep my eyes unglazed.

There’s little I can give to you,
to save my house, my home.
There’s even little more I can offer you,
But I’ll pay in priceless gold.