deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Siren's Call
Each morning that I wake up,
I’m closer to being free
Each breath that I inhale
is one closer to my last
When death finally knocks,
I’ll probably run and hide, (but)
From a distance I hear the siren
She’s calling me to die
For now I’ll let her sing
I’ve a few things left to try,
More songs to bring together,
Silly poems left to write
But the dream will never leave me
She lives too deep inside
Whispering sweet nothings,
restless thoughts to cloud my mind
I’m closer to being free
Each breath that I inhale
is one closer to my last
When death finally knocks,
I’ll probably run and hide, (but)
From a distance I hear the siren
She’s calling me to die
For now I’ll let her sing
I’ve a few things left to try,
More songs to bring together,
Silly poems left to write
But the dream will never leave me
She lives too deep inside
Whispering sweet nothings,
restless thoughts to cloud my mind
Published 19th Jan 2021
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19th Jan 2021 6:09am
There are those who are here who would love to read your poetry, too.
Sincerely...
💜
xo
Sincerely...
💜
xo
19th Jan 2021 9:14am
Dear T,
It’s the cry of the Banshee for me. She cycles in and out on a regular basis always reminding me she’s waiting.
“ Silly poems left to write” while I get this statement as it applies for me I think you under estimate your writing acumen. I echo Blues statement above and look forward to more of your writing.
H🌷
It’s the cry of the Banshee for me. She cycles in and out on a regular basis always reminding me she’s waiting.
“ Silly poems left to write” while I get this statement as it applies for me I think you under estimate your writing acumen. I echo Blues statement above and look forward to more of your writing.
H🌷
