Poetry | Journal

I don’t feel well today.
A nap would do me well.

But she calls my name,
so sweetly, in melodies
created in the heavens
just for me.

My muse is a siren
pulling me ashore
from the melting ship
lost
at subconscious stormy corners
of my mind.

She promises me sleep.
Peaceful serenity,
if only I let her come closer.

And it is impossible
for me to say
no.