The Time Of Evils

At the time of evils, one voice howls

A group traveling through the night
scorched by quivering, thorny blue flames
I'll follow as they cry out together and go forth to someplace

Holding my breath and walking stealthily,
my lurking figure is laughable but
even the mood can not stop my inquisitive heart
nor will I carelessly blink my eyes

The troupe advances soundlessly
Impatience boils over if any lag behind
I hurry after them without closing the distance
If this is strange, the deed can be done
The deed can be done

And in some bewitching way or another
I also see them dance at a brilliant banquet
Without using hands as people do,
they drink and sing and talk together

The food and drink lures me in,
I'm dumbfounded and entranced by it
The light is beckoning me
If I realize it I can talk with them

If not for their strange whispering
This night would be a wedding for my own children
But isn't everybody celebrating greatly?
So come, gulp down the rest of your drink
Intoxication churns around in our stomachs
Before I know it, I'll fall down sleeping

When I look around me, there's not a soul
If this is strange, the deed can be done
The deed can be done