As mime the comfort of silence doth love,
Which suggests me still a spirit broken,
For rightly fair, tears stream down from above,
And white face hides injustice unspoken.
Painting portraits that leave nothing to doubt,
Masterful knowing of bold humankind
Meaning found as movements suitably shout,
Artful notions delicately refined.
Crossing life’s expressive ability,
Sorrow’s eyes tenderly thy drum doth beat,
Turning hell to heav’n wooing purity,
Tis the working way molded on the street.
Lost upon the eye of security,
Faithful friend in mislaid tranquility.