Fitful rest in the place of slumber
A jolted start
Lulled by darkness
It was too early
It was too late
The night was dark
Then, I heard it in the distance:
An unidentified voice

Sweet, silver song sung
Solitude in solemn shadow
I could not identify the singer
Neither male nor female

Peculiar voice in a peculiar morning
An hour past midnight
I did hear the song
And then something caught my fear
I hath been taken by the ear

Were they a Siren of a tarred river
Flowing through a small town
Tempting me to the street
And turn me into a meal sweet
Or perhaps a Banshee
Irish crying, sobbing,
Mistaken for a singer
When they are a harbinger

Distant, faint,
And indescribable
Words and babble
But a song nonetheless
But a lullaby nonetheless