A cradle for her head

Her soul is sleeping far away
sleek furred animals for her bed.
She wishes songs and danced all day
she whispers of her dreams who
escape her drowsy mouth.
Upon  awakening she sees instead
a dank and dismal day ahead
and cannot once again return to dreams.
When she was bright, and fought
for love, she plays now a new game
sloughing off new skins to pay for night.
Yet when he takes her hand
he leads her home to foreign lands
Now all of these days remain behind
while in their dreams clouds are golden lined