Lie still sweet dream, and waver not against my plight.

For your sorrows, beget visions of a beguiling.

I stand, I bend, and I cry with supplication, I recoil from fright.

Weary is the saga that holds no tomorrows.

 For a tepid rain has begun to fall and misery climbs the wall.

Creeping like a poisonous viper,

Slithering into a helpless mind. Killing us all.

Save us now is our feeble plea, as we stare into a fearful eternity.

 Oh sweet dream, where now are thee, that you may sustain me?