Come Sleep and wipe away from my sore eyes
Their worries, bring to me a dreamless slumber
To quiet what thoughts now march like thunder
From a tempest rushing across the skies.
Come help the spirit that helplessly tries
To close these lids, that wrenched asunder
Offer up anguish their easy plunder;
Upon your aid alone my hope relies.
A dreamless sleep and peace for an anxious soul:
I pray for this, and thankful would I be
To slip into your realm, to give control
To any who might numb this memory!
But only thunder comes, so restlessly I stir
This eternal night, and think of him with her.
I like this poem, and it doesn't hurt that I haven't slept in a few nights! I like the repetition of help and helpless in the one line. I put a lot of classical poetry on my blogs, and I've enjoyed reading your work.
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