Ghosts of Christmas Past (Original Project): Sleep, baby, sleep [Hesychia]

Hesychia

Rustling leaves on the soft meadow

heartbeats fluttering up to the trees

every touch a firework, our lungs feel shallow;

we laugh and wonder what the sun sees

Forever could be granted on this Lemnos easily

if only we weren't mortals under the rule of Hypnos

and his highness of a brother, but Thanatos' name

sounds so sweet in the warm embrace of another

Our sanctuary in the dappled light starts to freeze

throwing our souls from Helios to Nyx

everything goes under ocean black

with only the moon as our cover.

Time for final penance,

this temple graces us a little death

parting lips for one last kiss

Oh, what a mystery it is to love

a wild enchanted beast.

Poem by me.

Illustration is part of my project original art and sensory project Ghosts of Christmas Past.

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