Quiet My Dreams

I dream of making love to her. I stand tall in front of her tomb, My heart churns up a lively stir, I cannot help but feel the gloom. I smell roses strewn all over. I dream of making love to her. I have lost all my composure. Must all these painful dreams recur? I stare and stare but it's a blur, Her loss is great as it should be. I dream of making love to her. Seems that I'm tied, never be free. Whispers from trees I try to shut. Wish she were here. How I prefer! Useless, for all life, must end, but I dream of making love to her.