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.