Sleep comes soon to tortured souls,
and here my story lies.
But the tortures worse in waking,
and there my story dies.

For was one night I slept a sleep,
induced by bitter wine.
And there I saw an angel stand,
I dreamt was only mine.

It's hard to tell you how it felt,
to lie within her arms.
The feeling warmed my heart and soul,
and drew me to her charms.

Her beauty held a radiance,
a gentle burning light,
that once drawn in would keep you there,
and hold you ever tight.

Now if her eyes could find you,
and bind you in her stare.
And love and beauty fill you,
they'd hold you ever there.

And if you felt her warming touch,
like the summer breezes blow,
you'd be as trapped as I was,
and never be let go.

But the beauty was a vision,
an angel in my mind,
and now my life becomes the dream,
to find one of her kind.