We sung in the meadow a lullaby and prayed the dead to sleep.
We sought in the night a dream, but the vision wouldn't keep.
I stood in the assembly
—The blood cried out—
I fell to their blows;
they covered my shout.
Do not go to the meadow, nor read the faded stones;
Do not leave the city, nor heed the spirits’ groans.
My words still linger,
whispers in the hidden room,
and though I am forgotten,
they have built my tomb.
We have risen from our beds. We wander through the night.
Restless in our graves, we dare not face the light.
Sung in the Damned City
Tale Told 