I hope to sleep tonight.
On the window seat, I'll sit.
To turn on the light
my candle, I lit.
The pigeons cry,
so sad with you not here.
Too often, I sigh
without a word from you, my dear.
I miss the sound of your silent guitar.
That now is too silent, now is too far.
Its strums used to put me to sleep,
but now when I hear them causes me to weep.
Help me, my dear,
move past this cruel fear.
I will not hide, will not run.
It's just these things that are better said than done.
