Sorona
(P. Hammill)

Endless faces which wear the shadows of sadness 
as their masks. 
Nameless voices which rise in concert to welcome in the dark. 
Huddled shoulders against the presence of Sorrow on the streets, 
passing among the crowd and touching the souls 
of all he meets... 
And deep in their eyes you find an anguish that clamours for release... 
If only to be blind. 
Fingers tingling and bodies ringing in harmony 
with words whose melodies and phrases 
are now forgotten, though once heard... 
Suddenly there's a smile or two. 
Suddenly the tide begins to turn. 


© 1973 Peter Hammill