~ It's Prudence that Knows Best ~

It's Prudence that Knows Best
~Dryl

A sheet on every line;
a soul in every breast.
Muriel is mother,
but it's Prudence that knows best.

Everyone knows Prudence,
but no one breathes a word.
No one cares to mention
what Prudence hasn't heard.

Muriel wound up all her threads
while we just cried and hid in bed;
all of us winced and beat at our heads
but Prudence stood her ground.

Prudence put her foot down.

Your kin are lost in the fog.
You tried but you failed the test.
Muriel cannot protect you.
It's Prudence that knows best.

She's younger, yes, than you were told,
but mind your manners, all the same,
for once she is awake, I swear that
Prudence will know your name.
Austere, and sere, grim, severe,
ruthless, cold, four years old,
but wise! So wise,
beyond her years.

Prudence dreams the years, you know.

Prudence dreams the years.
We're all paupers, now.
We groan and kiss the garish things
we've made from wood while Muriel sings
and Prudence stands her ground.
Outside is a deafening sound.

Something, louder,
grinding again,
terror, din,
let it in.
Pounding.
Let it in.
Let it in.