Here comes the silent hour,
The one that beats upon my ears
Pounding my brain’s solitude, more evident than the noise.
The noise that has just started,
Speeding up, louder, louder, it grows;
First in strength
Then in pace.
But within this noiseless sound,
The paradoxical rhythm,
Does another sound arise.
With the glory of sounding trumpets,
Yet the softness of a single note
Sounding from a soul violin.