It is only when falling into loving Morpheus’s arms,
where a canvas of black emerges,
of slashes of vibrant anger,
the crooning pain of deep ocean blue,
the razor-edged leaves of four-leafed envy,
and the small pinpricks of sunshine happiness.
And only within Morpheus’s realm,
can breaths be unhindered
by broken coughs,
bloody promises slaughtered by false virtue,
vacant words that leave much to be desired,
ambitions too trying for a fatigued soul,
and failure tagging onto every exhale. Only here in the depths of Morpheus’s palace,
is where the weary traveler can walk,
and rest peacefully,
lulled by Morpheus’s gentle caress.
This poem was also accepted into the Cambridge Hall Poetry Journal! This poem came to me on a whim, and I was honestly probably half asleep when I wrote the first draft. I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out! Hope you enjoyed it!