The Sleeping Land

Silent as a standing pool,
Our land goes to sleep.
No sounds, not even by the sheep.
All you can hear,
Knocking on the door is fear.

The once noisy land,
Falls into sleepless sleep
From the liquor of an evil stranger.
The uninvited guest who usurped control
From a tired and helpless host.

Now the anxiety in our heart,
Speaks louder than the fear at the door.
Mr Stranger,
What do we offer you?
Please tell us, when will you go?