The End

To us

Who were

Of necessary birth

For the earth's hard

And thankless toil

Silence has no meaning



There is never a feeling

Of tranquility

Or mere quietness

Never a moment

Of soundless calm

From within or without

Our troubled selves



How can the clamor

Of sounds be stilled?

This silent bond

To determine the [?]

To the use to create

Hills of soft obedience

Where sweet-clothed sounds

Can rebound

And their echoes glide

Like a carefree bird

In rythmic calm

To a mellow

Pure, silent space