(An insomniac's Prayer to the God of Sleep)


Sweet voiced Muses, go to your dearest friend

I plea, to his sleepy hall in the cavern deep descend

where Helios’ beams never reach nor cock crows

where neither creature wild nor creature tame impose

for there Silence dwells where doors dare not creak

nor branches sway, nor winds blow, nor alarms shriek.

There Hypnos in languor lies. Victim of some scheme

of Lethe he must be, for he has forgotten my esteem.

Beat upon his blanketed breast until his heavy eyelids rise

and his head lifts from its soft ebony pillow in surprise.

Then ask him what crime I have committed unaware

to cause him to deny me his bounty.  Where did I err?

No sleep have I had, no rest nor dreams, fair or scare.

Ask the quietest of gods, to hear my heartfelt prayer.

“You who are the balm of the soul, pour forth thy brew

upon my weary form.  Let not my mind unendingly review.

Give me peace and wondrous dreams in a comfy bed.

Please kind one, nothing black to cause me worry or dread.

In the morning when I arise feeling refreshed and sunny

I shall gift you, oh gracious Darkwing, with milk and honey."

I hail and honor Hypnos, father of dreams, gentle god of sleep,

and the Muses who relayed my prayer to the cavern deep!