Silence sang to me
In the dark
It was the voice of souls
Or perhaps of nightlight memories
They got straight through
No daytime distraction
No clear refraction
They have but themselves to present me
And now I am sure
That colours can be seen
And voices can he heard
Where sunlight cannot shine
As the sleeper awakens
Very much like a flower
Every bit like a flower
And I try not to be sentimental
For the trial is judged by the day.