Upon a drum that makes no sound
One tracks the moves of souls abound.
Hand to chest and chin up high,
One’s gaze is narrowed with a sigh.
For in this fading light of day,
A guest unwanted came one’s way.
But soon the vermin took their leave
And cried elsewhere in false reprieve.
The visit’s purpose was unknown
For blockages were aptly shown.
Yet one remains in looming night,
To make sure they stay out of sight.
So choose thy force to stand beside,
Preparing for the omen’s tide…
For this home is one to fight
Under one’s watch in silver light.