Sleep

By: Eric Whitacre

The evening hangs beneath the moon
A silver thread, un-darkened dune
With closing eyes, and resting head
I know that sleep is coming soon

Upon my pillow safe in bed
A thousand pictures fill my head
I cannot sleep my mind's a flight
And yet my limbs seem made of lead

If there are noises, in the night
A frightening shadow; flickering light
Then as I surrender unto sleep
Where clouds of dreams give second sight

What dreams may come, both dark and deep
Of flying wings and soaring leap
As I surrender unto sleep
As I surrender unto sleep