Dreams

Who is the cruelest being of all?

You may pick only one.

I wager one might think of Attila the Hun

And at any rate

It would be impossible not to discuss Blackbeard the pirate

But if you’d like

You could probably convince me that it was Hitler and his Reich

And you wouldn’t be insane

If you were to say it had been Saddam Hussein 

I hope, however, that you wouldn’t find it a massive leap

To claim that the cruelest being of all is none other than Sleep.

 

Sleep, a cruel and unfeeling mistress?

She who cures all, with her soothing powers, from any and all distress?

Have you gone mad, you poet?

Go get some sleep, you insomniac, and then you shall know it

How stupid you sound

Such a laughable conclusion you’ve found

 

Ah, dear reader, you shame yourself

While Sleep may be necessary for your health

She is cruel on the notion

That her most famous and blessed potion

Is in truth a cruel joke when delivered under the moon’s beams

Yes, dear reader, I speak of dreams

 

Dreams, a most interesting poultice

Depending on their content, they can either sate or jolt us

But regardless of the story

Whether it be cute or gory

A dream can bring us closer than ever to our grandest of desires

They’re often the catalysts of actions, the lighters of many fires

But some goals cannot be reached

And that is where the kindness of dreams is breached

If only every want could be fulfilled

With dreams it is if it’s but willed

But when I wake, what do I find?

There’s no such thing as peace of mind.

 

Sleep, you sadistic tease

Give me respite! Respite, please!

For when I indulge in your gentle embrace

I only draw closer to becoming a mental case

Allow me to dream not of my deepest wishes

Do not remind me of an angel’s kisses

Or the possible success of some long-failed venture

A scenario using “If” is such a maddening conjecture

 

I beg you, punishing Sleep

If you grant me this request, I shan’t ever utter another peep

But haunt me naught with memories past

Nothing was ever meant to last

So do not prolong the long-forgotten death

Allow my memories to breathe their final breath.

 

O Sleep, cruelest being of all

Fulfill your promise of rest, before you bring me to my own downfall

Author's Note

Your analyses, criticisms and opinions are not only welcomed but encouraged

Reviews

[Miss Ithaca]

Perhaps review your use of "you" throughout the piece. Sometimes is seems to be the reader and other times it is sleep. Checking on that parallelism would help the flow.

The line
"Allow my memories to breathe their final breath." create a nice ending connection between sleep, dreams, and the speaker's true desire of the poem

[jdTella]

loved it! I like how I could read this to a kid and he/she could still understand it, that's nice, despite the sort of dark connotations at some parts.

[Leif+Henry]

Normally I don't like much rhyme
but this time I don't mind.
bravo!

[Purvesh Khamankar]

I commend your unusual, though enjoyable, way of interpretation. It gives a different insight and approach towards perception.

[SoundOfThought]

I often find myself looking at things from strange angles, which usually leads to me wanting to transpose that angle into words. Thank you very much for your review and encouragement!