Like snowflakes descend on lonesome mountains,
Like flowers wither when winter calls,
Like tall stories play in a charade,
It’s in that hush the silent rain falls.
Like a stifled cry of a forlorn heart,
Like the suppressed screams of a lingering brawl,
Like the brimming quiet in the depth of an ocean,
Like the suppressed screams of a lingering brawl,
Like the brimming quiet in the depth of an ocean,
It’s in that hush the silent rain falls.
Like rewound tapes of forgotten
memories,
Like the spirited hope to mend
broken walls,
Like the edgy first stir of a
revolution,
It’s in that hush the silent rain falls.
Like glittering pearls form in dark
oyster shells,
Like the last glow of the setting
sun enthralls,
Like the mute protest of a rebellious bard,
Like the mute protest of a rebellious bard,
It’s in that hush the silent rain falls.
Like the impatience of a ticking
clock,
Like injustice thrives in sparring court halls,
Like the slow chug of a train at a hopeful station,
It’s in that hush the silent rain falls.
Like the slow chug of a train at a hopeful station,
It’s in that hush the silent rain falls.
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