They are singing outside my window
Their carolling is strange for the summer season
I do not understand what they sing up at me
why they sing up at me
They don't notice my confused countenance
They've buried their dead in cement boxes
For fear of their deceased escaping
Perhaps I am losing
sanity along with health
As I notice a tiny child, an elfin creature
perched upon my window sill, she clicks her tongue and flashes sharp teeth
The singing outside my window
has ceased and now
They've locked me up
I don't dare to argue with them.
The creature has accompanied me and is perching on my shoulder now
like some rabid parakeet she chirps grating sounds
I feel tied up, very likely I am
I can't move my arms or legs anymore
Perhaps if I pretended to be unaware of the singing...
of the elf, they would set me free, and I could accept this alternative consciousness.