A penitent night, all made of gray,
The plates and silver now cleared away,
The maids all asleep, mouths gone awry,
The drudges and knights sprawling nearby:
    All heard nothing, all made no cry.

A slumbrous king, his face stern and grim,
The queen by his side, dreaming with him,
The guard by the door, nodding his head,
The priest drunk, on the floor by the bed:
    Nothing was wrong, nothing was said.

A traitorous window, open still,
The prince in his nightgown, growing chill,
An elf in the night steals him away,
Out through the window, down to the bay:
    Quiet the predator, quiet the prey.

A waking nanny, on Sabbath dawn,
Cries from the rooftop, the prince is gone!
Awaken the guards, call out the men,
Search all the castle, search it again:
    Search the wild forest, search the wolf's den.

An enigmatic smile, frozen in place,
Graces the lips of the prince's face,
They find him, alone, all cold, by the sea,
Once a prisoner, now fully free:
    Dreaming were they, now dreaming is he.