As the earth so tediously cooled
I disappointedly trod
But for what I did not know
Yet have I more than hardly prod?
The numbness originates deep
Dropping temperature within the core
But soon gives way to spite
I am comfortable no more.
How can it be put to a halt
I sadly search his eyes
Yet no one can relieve this lunacy
I am all that the poor despise.
How do you find peace
In a permanent transition state
Unless that romantic restlessness
Means wandering by fate.
Being passionless is apathy
And apathy is death
It not only affects your direction
It completely destroys your mental stead.
It perpetuates your desires
Your commitments, your respects
Without assuming this position of control
You will exist in a psychological mess.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it
Prone to run at any given chance
I relinquish the source into its demon
For its brokeness I will only enhance.
