The air without a noise,
Which is always quiet before a storm,
My bones aching with thoughts,
Wondering how this day will perform,
The noises still and consistent,
Calming the sound of nothing,
Not even a moving mouse scurried,
Or even a yodeler letting out to sing,
It was still until the basking pound,
A noise registered from the Underworld,
Yet I stayed upon the ground,
Even though it all began to swirl,
The answer was near,
Yet the fate was like the air,
Unseen and badly portrayed,
Which was heard down the stairs,
The noise grew with the beating questions,
While the answers filled nothing of this test,
Yet courageous men stand forward,
All when they need to become their best.
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