hope in the hour of silence

the whole breaks into its component parts
yet manages at once to remain whole
this is the brightest of the once-dark arts

we think of magic having fits and starts
of coming from a partially-made soul
the whole breaks into its component parts

the blow that landed ages ago still smarts
the stars look down on the once-frozen pole
this is the brightest of the once-dark arts

we sell our wares in many distant marts
as actors we are sound in any role
the whole breaks into its component parts

out of the night the hunter swiftly darts
down into dark earth burrows the mole
this is the brightest of the once-dark arts

a haunting music that will heal all hearts
its notes are written on a sacred scroll
the whole breaks into its component parts
this is the brightest of the once-dark arts