Upon the moonlight's mighty chest
I lay my weary head and rest
by beacons beaming through the dark
the seamless arch unveil so stark
towards the mistrest yet undressing
her unbound landscapes still caressing
the weary head which bown below
through mistletowish dreams will plow
unto the turmoil's soil beneath
where weary heads are borne by feet
who flee, who fly, who die and fleet
towards the moonlight's mighty chest
where weary heads are still caressed.