Dreams are a dreadfully drab subject,

Dragging on till their dreary end.

Depressing to a doubtful daughter such as I.

Deep in the depths of my conscious,

The darkened despair of my mind,

Draping down the window of happiness,

The door which opportunity knocks.

Don't be scared dear,

Nightmares never last.

Sleep through the dying night,

And wake into the mournful light.