Rid me river Lethe of the habit to think,

Let me your murmuring waters drink

For I too like the shades before me want

To baptise my brain in your forgetful font.


For I cannot continue to dwell

In the aimless Asphodel

Where souls are unable to be understood

Unless they are restored to wits by blood.


So please, river Lethe, obliterate

My mortal lot, my mortal fate.

Let me return above and live again

So I may earn fields Elysian.


By Sarah Mills