For once there was an interruption,
A brazen noise of insurrection,
Product of wayward intersection
Lacking further introspection.
Once there was a passive note
Sailing through a song by rote
A sad tone that wouldn’t float
So wearily, the way he wrote.
There was a silencing inside
That took the eunuch by surprise
The thing that he could never hide
Was hidden, as if it died.
For once there was an awesome drive
That kept the sullen man alive
The love and passion that once did thrive
Are now on the end of a dull knife.
