A lullaby,
The sweetest lullaby,
A song so sweet and pure,
I’ll sleep with a smile,
But wake in tears,
And my dreams will be filled with instrumental bliss,
With cords that sound of morning,
Plucked from stings forged of rainbows,
On frets of moonlight,
Each verse like kisses unto virgin lips,
As rain to the pedals of a desert rose,
A chorus of children’s laughter, and lovers delight,
A tempo of pitter patter,
Rainfall on glass roofs,
Breathes of rain,
And sighs of sunshine,
Please do excuse my mortal tongue,
It’s not so daring as to sing along to its melody,
Or describe the words so strong it defines any other with great diction,
I can only describe the chorus and verses,
A dirge with a happy ending,
Lament with joyous occasions,
Dulcet and euphonious,
A song that knows quiescent,
Not so much oblivious,
Just unacquainted,
A song of love undying,
A song of love for those who breathes do seemly sigh,
Love for sinners with saints that cannot respond,
Maids turned moonlight mistress,
Damsels and their drunken dances,
Queens from queans,
Angels singing from every corner of periphery,
Singing unto him a song,
As he sings unto me a symphony,
With no discord or such relation with any cacophony,
No dissonance,
Just ethereal discerning,
Sadness is but a mute whisper amongst the daring clouds,
So very, very far below.
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