The Lark’s Song
The lark breaks the cold gray morning
With his own brand of sweet song
Though he sang with all his heart’s beating
No one else would bring it along
Yes his song is sung alone
It rings in the silence of the air
No song as beautiful is known
Yet none for him to share
A sweet sad song he sings
Perhaps a song of true warm tears
Flowing amid deep cold mornings
Falling on dull deaf ears
Yes, his song is sung alone
Across hearts that fail to breathe
Within such a peaceful tone
Harmony sung incomplete
The sun will not rise again
Though sky is pink in blossom
Till the lark finishes his song
With someone to sing it along
***
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