Day 25: Angel's Voice...

This is inspired from William Wordsworth Solitary Reaper...

Passing through a silent hill,
A song reached my ear.
The song was like a Nightingale's chant,
Voice so thrilling and clear.
Solitary she reaps the grain,
Among the farthest Island of Britain.

She sings like a Cuckoo-bird.
Welcome notes, for weary bands that go.
Though she reaps and sings alone,
Of unhappy battles long ago.
her voice is like a balm,
To travelers among Arabian sands.

I couldn't tell what she sings,
Something mournful it sounds.
maybe, something related to daily matters,
Or something more profound.
But her voice is do delicate, yet loud,
Breaking silence around.

No matter what she sings,
Its without ending.
Its like a balm to broken mind,
What she sings o'er the sickle, bending!