There are dreams whose nights have come to pass,
when I plead the darkness not to cast.
Upon this bed, the last embossed
impression of your smile lost.
Your beauty as my mind had left it,
a dream I caught and so I kept it.
I held it then and saw it then,
until to the sun I woke again.
And to those dreams I wish to fall,
to the beck of angels’ calls.
With wings they sent her to ascend her,
from on this world of a just pretender.
Sailing on, home’s shores have burned,
and I leave tonight to not return.
I shall not cry,
I shall not weep,
for in my dreams you always keep.
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Nick: What a beautiful poem. Who wrote it?