I cup it in my hands
And stare into the waters;
In it I see just what I am,
And whatever hope I had falters.

One long drink
Is all that it would take
To forget the whole thing,
Erase every mistake.

Every empty memory,
All the anger and the ache:
Drink, and I am free;
Drink, and in a blissful dream I wake.

All that is a part of me,
Everything that’s wrong;
My entire life’s identity
Will finally be gone.

So to drink, or not to drink
Of the darkly river waters?
I hesitate, I think;
But what to do when hope still falters?

9 thoughts on “Lethe

  1. All this, and erudite, too! Look at you, Rachel, making easy reference to classical themes. In so doing, you’ve expanded my mind, and increased the internet’s collective IQ by 20 points.

    Plus, it does the heart good to bask in elevated writing, of the sort I feared had been abandoned decades ago.

    Adhering a bit more closely to the topic at hand, Oblivion’s cup does make anxiety fade, but in so doing it also pushes us out far beyond hope’s glittering shore. Here, worry can’t touch us, but neither can improvement, or anything else that promises a better tomorrow. A pretty steep fare, if you ask me/.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hah! Such high praise. ☺

      True. Though, in our deepest miseries, we often swear to pay any price to be free of our pains. And when hope has already been passed by unseen, oblivion often gets taken for the next closest thing.

      Liked by 1 person

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