What an undying fantasy
that flickers through her downcast face,
painting over a somber portrait.

So I searched for the cause of that mirth,
which I thought was long due.
Was it due to the divine fugue
which we sat listening?

So I treated it as a quest,
to quench the unrest
that seems perennial;
and a genial sunshine for
growth and comfort would be favourable.

And a grand chorus would fill the room
but not wash-away the fear and gloom
that has been gathered.

Alas, with every act I weakened!
Hence, I let the symphony
fill-in the quiet of the entire room.