Oh well, I dreamt a pleasant sleep.
I woke with rose mist drenched elbows
and a lover engraved to the wall.
A garland sewn with a million blue bells,
and under my pillow,
the crisp leaves of fall.
I wake, I sleep, I dream..
My empty eyes depart and settle
on a falling deck of cards.
No sleep, heavy eyes weigh on my lids...
Wishing a blissful. morning
to the early strands of dawn!
This poem hits me. Starts all dreamy — rose mist, garlands, blue bells — and I’m like, wow, peak aesthetic sleep. Then reality: “I wake, I sleep, I dream…” — basically me staying up late studying or scrolling, eyes heavy, brain fogged, dawn judging me. Falling cards, heavy lids — that’s my nightly mood. Still, somehow, I wish the morning well… just like me muttering at my alarm like a tired, polite roommate.
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