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When Homer wrote his lyrics in his mind
Did men take note?
Or did the sky resound, did birds proclaim
The words that Virgil wrote
When life was calm and young?
For birds do sing always,
And subtle undertones resound
In the evening air.
A symphony in harmony
Except for little nuances of sound
That make the whole
more perfectly profound.
I wait for nothing but the darkness to confound
I sleep in fear of dying in a swound
In senseless languor of a type of hope
Rejecting what is best for love of life.
Ten times ten I've senseless dead
incensed
The raving darkness of a night at peace.
To see the hope of ages all undone
A swirl of light from crystal sparkling sun.
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