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·99 words·

The evening hangs beneath the moon, A silver thread on darkened dune. With closing eyes and resting head I know that sleep is coming soon.

Upon my pillow, safe in bed. A thousand pictures fill my head, I cannot sleep, my mind’s a-flight; And yet my limbs seem made of lead.

If there are noises in the night, A frightening shadow, flickering light; Then I surreneder unto sleep, Where clouds of dream give second sight.

What dreams may come, both dark and deep, Of flying wings and soaring leap As I surrender unto sleep, As I surrender unto sleep.