I dreamed that writhing shadows wreathed a hall, While celebration's song was heard within. The lighted windows each in turn grew small, As darkness piled up, then filled them in. The music kept to perfect pitch and beat While silence showed the screaming throats the knife. The sheep and cows as one made their retreat, And left the song the only sign of life. The darkness rose, to snuff the stars, the moon, And leave a world blanked out, but for the song. I knew the sun would not be rising soon; I knew the music would continue strong. How long it held, and whether light returned, I do not know. I woke before I learned.