Quiet My Dreams
I dream of making love to her.
I stand tall in front of her tomb,
My heart churns up a lively stir,
I cannot help but feel the gloom.
I smell roses strewn all over.
I dream of making love to her.
I have lost all my composure.
Must all these painful dreams recur?
I stare and stare but it's a blur,
Her loss is great as it should be.
I dream of making love to her.
Seems that I'm tied, never be free.
Whispers from trees I try to shut.
Wish she were here. How I prefer!
Useless, for all life, must end, but
I dream of making love to her.
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