In the dark of night, where dreams bear bloom,
and silence reigns in my shadowed room,
my pillow waits, serene, composed,
awaiting my sleepy head to doze.
Beneath my head it yields its form,
to cradle my crown from day’s storm,
and offer a sweet night’s repose,
yet pillow’s thoughts, who really knows?
She seems so sweet, pretends to care,
yet every night disturbs...
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