I Would Dream of Blood

Drawn by a sad melody
 I enter this old theater
 I walk through corridors
 But for the music all is still
 I reckon I'm late for the show
 Strange to say there is no crowd
 But enchanted by the sound
 I start to walk down one of two aisles 

But as I reach the stage
 I find the orchestra motionless
 Like frozen in their play
 All covered up in cobwebs
 Indicating the time that passed 

All in their evening attire
 Beautiful
 Like an old monochrome photograph 

Bows lie still on violins' strings
 The sound comes no longer
 From their instruments
 It's but an echo between these walls
 And has so been for years
 Yet ever so strong 

Their eyes focus in the direction
 Where the conductor once was stood
 He'd rule them from the podium
 And they'd anxiously obey
 Any gesture he would make 

No one could in their wildest dreams
 Imagine that he while he'd conduct
 Would cast a spell and turn them into
 Stone, statuesque, proud but sad
 The conductor departed but left this dirge
 To accompany their destiny
 I panic as I realize
 The podium was nobody else's place
 But mine 

Paralyzed by insight
 I'm viewing my own life
 All my hopes and dreams
 All that could have been
 Turned to stone
 As I stepped down from my throne