Pessimism born anew,
Graves eternally sleeping,
Restless dreams, I have of you.
Nor teary eyed to weeping.
Fly me to the tallest tree,
I’ll perch and quietly hear,
The heavens jungle free,
Nocturnal ambience near.
Then wake up to the greyest blue,
The light beyond my eyes.
To breath another day anew.
In sleep of gentle guise.