Written Works of Abstract Art

The Morning Sound

The Morning Sound

The chorus of the morning is a din

A jumbled mix of screeches, slams and yells.

No more the stunning harmony of bells,

Nor ever does the song of birds begin.

But where has it, the music, gone astray?

Slaughtered by the churning of the gears.

The roar will last, will cause the flow of tears.

Already, the last tune has died away.

But some of us, we strain our ears to hear

The hymns that played when this world first begun.

For though the songs have lost all of their cheer,

They still ring true, just waiting to be sung.

For in the rising of the newborn sun,

We all can stand and say that it is done.