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Sleeping I was,

Deep is weary dreams,

lost in my buzz,

when I heard their screams.



It was blood crutling,

and echo'ed in the night,

this sound of the burturing,

and all of their fright.



I tryed to brush it off,

as if nothing were there,

but my sleep was now lost,

is that thin winter air.



I sit there and wait,

for a moment, a sound,

that could possabily mean their awake.



I wanted to help,

but knowing not how,

I sit there, hearing the torture,

knowing its to late now.