Lullabies Poems Novels & Stories

That was the only moment Mother truly had been actively present in my life. She had nursed Sully herself, something she had not done with any of her other kids. It was perhaps because she felt a connection with Sully that she did not feel with any of us. But she sang all of us lullabies. She had a nice voice. Quiet and melodious. There was a certain addictiveness in her voice. If someone heard it once, they would want to hear it again and again. I learned those lullabies from Mother. I sang her one about the little girl and her nameless bird. It was the one she sang most of the time. Mother said that she wrote that song herself, thinking about the small bird she used to have when she was a c

"As stars above begin to gleam, The flower sways, a graceful dream. Its fragrance sweet, its beauty rare, It fills the night with love and care." The words flowed effortlessly from Mabel's lips, each verse a delicate thread in the intricate tapestry of her lullaby. I felt myself sinking deeper into the comfort of her song, the worries and fears of the day melting away beneath the soothing strains of her melody. "And as the night begins to fade, The flower sleeps, in peaceful shade. Its petals closed, its dreams unfold, In the embrace of night, untold."

A few days later… “Hush little baby, go to sleep… Hush, Hush, Hush, the sky is deep!” This voice again? Why can’t I see anything? “Hush little baby go to sleep, We'll climb that hill, no matter how steep…” Hill? Where am I? Ahhhh That light... It’s blinding me… “Hush little baby go to sleep, You have fought a lot but now you are weak…”

A song, A real song, being sung by real lips, breathed by real lungs, shaped by a real throat somewhere in the world beyond these cursed peaks. My lullaby. It was the same melody I had etched into stone with bloodied fingers during those first terrible nights after my transformation, when madness pressed against the inside of my skull like a living thing trying to claw its way out. The same lullaby I had sung when Seraphina trembled in her cradle during those early months when colic kept her crying through the dark hours. The same gentle tune I had hummed when Alexander refused to sleep, his infant mind already too active, too curious about the world beyond his nursery walls. The same song

Even up until now when I was 18 years old, I still listened to them. Before I stripped down my clothes and turned the shower, I played the most sentimental lullaby on my phone. As it began to echo in the closed door of the bathroom, memories from which I suffered so much because of the tough past I had been through all this time flashed before my own eyes. The lullaby began, and so did my reminiscent. Rock-a-bye, baby On the treetop When the wind blows The cradle will rock, When the bough breaks The cradle will fall;

"You always know how to calm me down..." Lucius winked, his fingers dancing on the strings. "Music has a way of reaching places words can't." As the melody continued, Lucius started to sing a lullaby, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet room. The lyrics, a mix of sweet promises and reassurances, wrapped around Layla like a tender embrace. "Close your eyes, my love, let go of the day, In the arms of the night, worries fade away. Stars above are watching, they'll keep you safe and sound, Dreams are waiting, a world to be found."

"I remember! It's called 'Lullaby of the Sea Stars'." "Sing it for me... what are the lyrics?" It said, with a determined expression. "I'll try," Gawin closed his eyes and concentrated before singing. 'The stars shine brightly, over the blue sea Small fish and big fish swim beautifully Sleep, my love, and have sweet dreams This world holds many hidden secrets The waves ebb and flow, bringing a quiet heart The coral is beautiful, like a home A precious pearl hidden in the long darkness A sparkling eye watches every movement The dolphins play, blowing white foam

My voice was low and sweet as I sang the lullaby my mother used to hum to me when I was small. 🎵 “Stars above, light the sky, Little love, don’t you cry... Dreams will come, dreams will stay, Mommy’s here to keep fears away.” 🎵 Kael gurgled in my arms. His little hand kept twitching as if he were trying to mimic the rhythm. Lyra reached up and tugged softly at my nose, then giggled. I laughed. Just then, the door opened. I looked up and there stood Sophia, carrying a stuffed lamb with a little bell around its neck.

Most lullabies used to scare me, and I was such a clingy baby; even till my teenage days, I clung to her until Dad’s death forced me to grow up and be a man. 🎶 "Sleep, little sparrow, close your eyes. The moon watches over the silent skies. Dream of rivers, dream of gold, In Mama’s arms, you won’t grow old." 🎶 My lips moved with the song as I followed it—through the hall, past the grand staircase, down corridors of antique furniture—until I reached a door I hadn’t seen in sixteen years. My old room. Fingers on the doorframe. A swallow. Then, I pushed it open.

For the first time in days, they felt a flicker of something like safety. That night, as they huddled around the flames, Lyra began to sing. It was not a song of defiance or joy, but a lullaby. A simple, ancient melody about the moon watching over sleeping children. Her voice was soft and clear, weaving through the broken stones, a thread of peace in a world of chaos. Kael listened, his eyes closed, a faint smile on his face. “The stones are listening,” he murmured. “They like her song.”