In the dark nights, never will one find,
The memories of the insane skies.
I have no recollection, of any sorts of determination,
Of Morpheus to close my eyes curtain.
Find me in my plight, so little in comparison,
To the loss of the slumber kingdom.
The morning dawn breaks, so cruel in it's eternal fate,
On my Renaissance of my personal cave.
In a moment it shall be fine, but till I have escaped,
I shall gaze at this treacherous, mocking weight.

Night has rendered me with words impotent,
Staggering seconds pull me nearer to a dawn unawakened

Thanking the rain as it gives me courage to hide,
I find comfort from thoughts yet to be spoken,

It will be soon, it will be soon
So says Hope and all her maidens.

.

A friend lies on her bed, with her eyes wide open
While I seek the warmth of a dream with no vision

Iron-clad feet makes no discretion,
as to whom they owe their burden

It will be soon, it will be soon
So says Hope and all her maidens.

.

Smile too often and delight you may have forsaken,
The prerogative of the loved, is that they might be forgotten

I reach the terminal of what I can entreat
Even then, the words ring like a bell being beaten

It will be soon, it will be soon
So says Hope and all her maidens.

On a high and lofty cliff, scarred with grey wounds, she stood forlorn. Waiting, for her lover.

Than there is me, walking in the dead of the night, through shadows framed with dull orange lights.

On a cold mountain, where the breath turns to frost, she hides in her hut. Waiting, for her lover.

Than there is me, sitting behind a computer, facing numbers that leaves me wanting to crawl on the floor.

On a sweat soaked bed, where her long trusses toss, she wakes panting. Waiting, for her lover.

Than there is me, eating alone in a posh restaurant, filling silence with the sound of metal on flesh and bones.

We are all on the same earth, but all in a different world, but yet we all are. Waiting, for our lovers.