| Written: 9:46 PM April 11, 2004 The night was full of the strange Quietness had to often be arrange There was nothing to fill the still night air Let alone, held the often stone-glazed glare The statues frozen around the weary pond Their eyes do stare at the one of fond The granite's cold touch to those around To where the lies are often found The water quivers at the slightest wind Who would have know? Through all this again The strangers gather here to mourn their lost And to all others, may they suffer the cost Branches tremble in the early, cold night Cancelling whoever thought they had the right The reflection shows the powers that be And once again, its you they see |
| The Quietness |
 |
 |