Woefully, Viola sings and beautiful are her cries
Calling lovers, come and gone, to flash before her eye
Shimmering upon the dust filled air, touching her gentle frame
Each a note of mournful bliss, each one known by name
Strong and clear does her sound ring in solitary company
Uncomparable and unconquerable, untamed in all heartstrings
Cascading in a sorrow that moves the soul to break
Viola bends and tells her story, what music it does make
Crimson is the sheen that covers every inch of her
Melody in tragedy deplicted in each word
Echoing through mind and body, Viola misses not a cue
Lovely, deeply, sensually, Viola calls to you
