Heaven's Gate

Before the dusk consumed the dark and gloomy day My soul had readied terrors for the night which lay Ahead, and promised tortuous hours of sleeplessness No rest would come; no peace, no happiness. The best of me was sleeping sound at heaven's gate Where years, perhaps, she planned to rest and wait Until a brighter morn I should leave this realm of fears And wash her golden hair with then my sweetest tears. Bright morn—a new day born—the sun appears anew Suggests a new attempt to find the peace I sought through Copious tears and deep despair, oh pity me, I say New start, new dreams, new hope, new plans today. Why despair o'er things I cannot alter in this life Best live in the sunshine and melt away the strife.