I would dry your eyes if it
meant drowning in your tears

I would calm your demons if it
meant falling with your fears

I would fight your struggles if it
meant suffering your strife

I would trade your death if it
meant giving you my life

©

A poet is a nightingale
Who sits in darkness in the wood

He sings to cheer his solitude
With sweet sounds noone's ever heard




"In His Land of Dreams"