Her (Original Poem)

When eyes are closed and locked in form of sleep,
All thoughts and worries wind their way to Her:
Through Toil and Hardship creeping from the deep,
I tend to turn an unhealthy shade of blue.
Until, at once, a face enters the mire,
Then all the Hardships wisp and melt away.
Her face is beauty, which all men desire -
Her eyes beckon, "cast Doubt and Fear astray!"
Once case aside, Fear, Doubt and Toil curse.
They know they've sewn their last fragmented truths.
For, now, all that exists shall stem from Her:
All hope and wonder reinventing youth.