Home Storms

My ancestors crafted the treaty long ago,
Sealed in wood, watching us.
The day belongs to us the treaty says,
but at night we are the foreigners.

Don’t turn your back on me.
Only fools let their eyes off the enemy.

Noises circumnavigate the night stillness.
We’re dominant here. Go mortal,
keep your word.

Dim skies blacken on the horizon
as ripples of light seizure in the sky.
Too far away for their screams to
be heard.

You wouldn’t want to break the treat would you?

Comprehension means nothing,
We are true. So listen.