| I lie in your soothing arms, lord Hypnos
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| your garmet alive with your song
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| I lie in your soothing arms, lord Hypnos
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| Steep the spiral to your far abode,
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| in the wake of slumber, on visions I rode
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| and fell like history through the chasm of ages
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| into the charged, forbidden zones
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| How I have searched
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| through a million worlds and faces
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| yet unaware, I have not found
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| my own true face, traceless and profound
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| So, find me in these grandiose halls
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| where long ago summers eternally fall
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| and tune the strings of truthful longing
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| to the frozen music of gods
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| Hypnagonia’s lucid horizons
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| play with the yearning I’ve quelled
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| as I strike towrads the Pantheon
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| and what therein is held |