The Hymns of Tourach

On the Black Night of the Receding Moon

Can those bleak notes be heard across the loch.

Descending upon Cindermoor its bane

Be the chorus of the Hymns of Tourach.

The Hymns of Tourach are inscribed deeply

Into the quiet town of Cindermoor.

From the first accounts of its founding,

Early settlers knew the notes were impure.

None is known of Ulfilias Tourach,

Who lives in that Gothic castle atop the loch.

The name alone permeates the land,

But a sighting? Nay, not by one who can talk.

His domain sits center of Loch Golna,

Its black spires so high they pierce the stars.

It is from within those high-rising walls

He begins to perform those hellish bars.

The Black Night returns at calender turn,

When the stars do fade, and the moon goes dark.

Then do all in the town rush behind their doors,

Shouting to all, "These notes we must not hark!"

As the moon fades to black, its light obscured,

It is then when the notes sing through the dark,

And a panic descends upon the town.

The consequences of hearing them stark.

There lived a young lad, whose mistake was grave.

He knew not of the curse, there on a trip.

He made it to town that night, but the time

Was too late, now be he stuck in Tourach's grip.

He had barely met the town gate, when the

Symphony of the damned began to play.

The notes began to echo in his ears.

His eyes turned to white, the ground he would lay.

And in the morning, when children leave for school,

Would his body be found, and mumbling.

He shook and shuddered at that gate, afflicted

With something unknown, his mind struggling.

The living cadaver spoke words unknown,

With the pupils of his eyes pure white.

With haste did the residents soon surmise,

That this young lad had fallen to that night.

A card in pocket revealed his home,

Off did someone on horse race to that glen.

In time they returned, with strangers in tow.

Off to his family home he went, not seen again. 

With regularity would these nights return,

With notes so sinister that ravens do not flock.

Forever shall those in Cindermoor fear,

Lest they succumb to the Hymns of Tourach.