Behind the front door of your long lineage
there are rooms of deepest darkness
where the wind blows keening through
and the thunder of hooves in the night
brings fire to everything cherished. 

At the least alarm you go there,
abandon hope, draw your sword.

Hush now darling, wake.
The roses are blooming.
There is cake and sausage
for breakfast again. 

Here, take your plate.