Part 1: The Soprano:
At the top come
the yellows
not like butter,
but a beach
melting into the sun
it feels
like the very top of a layer of fur
feels like flowers
smells light
weightless bread
and fluffy
spring showers
and tastes like sorbet
which melts on the tongue
Part 2: The Alto
deeper in the fur
like spreading your fingers through it
Real Lapis
the forgotten treat after dinner
when you find
chocolate raspberry ice cream
the waves pull back on the shore
mating with the sound
molten metal poured into a mold
and a blanket of clouds
surrounding
Part 3: The Tenor
Vanilla
a bath of strong waves
surrounding, enco
Choir angel, why do you weep,
and call the shadows over you to creep?
Your tranquil songs are no longer heard...
Has forbidden silence suddenly occurred?
Choir angel, why don't you sing?
Has your voice torn thy frail wing?
or grief has sealed your singing soul,
you've seen too much and no longer glow.
Sad angel, why do you hate?
You've lost faith, it's so quiet and too late.
Yes, this world is full of false and lies,
so imperfect, please, close your burning eyes!
Lonely angel, don't loose your rage,
nor let your might roars out of its sorely cage!
Tired and hurt, your melody bleeds,
sing a wounded chant for earth at least!
Cho