Wallowing
Within placid
Half-hearted stanzas
The unsparing void
Where I’ve stranded my thoughts
To marinade in squalor
Callous, ragged, and unkempt
Time draws breath
Desperately
Tussling with panic
In its slow, horrid demise
It withers at the hands
Of titanic reveries
Coiling the windpipe
And awaiting its final tremor
When all is motionless
Frayed and silent
By my heinous crimes of apathy
The earth will turn
In prosperous hands
As I trail unheeded
Through their proud
Diverging ranks
