In candlelit nights I could see your dreams
Blanket by mine own hopes eye
What is it that you hide?
Away from day and of my pride
The windowsill accepts the cold
As it creeps to mine own pillow
Where head be laid unwilling to rest
As nightmares congress in the night
And morning anew the time be shown
That you will rise unwilling to show
All that laid to rest in the night
And project today will be all right
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Book / Fantasy
Book / Children Stories
Short Story / Fantasy
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