Each night I lay me down alone, Content in my solitary throne, No yearning for another's face— In daylight's warmth, I find my grace. Yet, gentle as a whispered breeze, Morpheus leads me 'neath the trees, In dreams where shadows intertwine, Your presence there, a woven vine. He knows the truths we dare not speak, In sleep's embrace, it's you I seek, His arms, a tender, boundless space, Unraveling the lies we chase. We dance amidst what we deny, In dreams, the walls of ego die, Revealing what the day conceals, The incomplete that night reveals. Yet morning's light knows naught of this, Alone, I welcome sun's first kiss, Resuming life's imperfect charm, Defying dreams within night's arm. And so I breathe my waking sigh, Content, yet knowing it's a lie, Where solitude and dreams collide, Upon this path where truths abide.