The Night Ran Red

True Sinfonians venture forth in song
To win the world to harmony, they seek
An audience of wearied souls, among
The night of shadows, myriad and bleak.
A light comes forth from strong and purest heart
To reawake a hidden memory
Within a shriveled form; the love of art
and beauty lives in perpetuity.
A single rose presented shows their care
For other people at their self-expense;
A hundred years' tradition, love so rare
Begets its mirror as its recompense.
And witnesses, in awe, together see
Ossian Mills' desire in legacy.