The One Behind Your Back

O’ my, how curious am I?

My silent pace is the unfathomable cry!

Faces around wonder about me more than I

Of how can such a colossal being sit

On so small a chair of study and sing:

‘I’m the silent tomb,’

So proudly he sounds

While so melancholy he bounds.

‘Is he a person or a god,’ one asks.

‘Execution might be in line for him,’ one says.

Yet his silent pace piques them up,

As he walks with Providence,

As he says with confidence,

As he cries with radiance,

‘I’m the silent tomb.’