This is what sanity’s score is about.
The ampler, outer voices jam the air,
Probe for weaknesses with many a scout,
Showcase their brass-ness, their march from without,
Highjack a legion readily driven,
Trumpet their edicts as divinely given.
The altos, the tenors, don’t fully share,
Too meek, their countering parts aren’t sung out.
When will they attune to what this song is about?
Their thrust, too reserved, beneath, kept hidden,
As this Requiem’s Corpse rots unshriven.
When will full chorus together dare
To seek a balance convincingly stout?
When will the choir wager the house, give shout?
Find the path—no need to be driven—
Towards the Cosmos we all must live in.
This is what sanity’s score is about.
Each to their part singing out.
