Lay your sleeping head, On my faithful arms, My love For my pen has brought you Close enough to me. You're only gone But not forgotten. So rest your sleeping head. Through the casement, We shall listen to the hooting of owls And watch the flight of acrobatic bats Blind, but precise. Life is almost the same, Where we move blind, the way it chooses. Do not grief my lady, Some things are written in the stars And the lines are drawn in the hands. When you're old and gray, And full of empathy and sleep, Nodding down alone and talking to self Go through these lines, Slowly and slowly And you shall dream of those days. Not from the past, you'll come, But from the deep. And the nostalgic time burns away In your ephemeral bliss, So rest your sleeping head. The dawn shall not be the same For both of us, But your beauty still murmurs to my soul asleep.