Inertia can bring comfort;
reason flies at it in a rage, but
soon calms down to accept its rules.
It's in good company
with many admirers:
lethargy, apathy, acceptance.
Indifference, whose bleak prospect heralds it,
unveils its faded grandeur
in a slow ceremony
with a grey cortege,
bowing low with a welcome.
Fighting with it brings little solace
as the grip of dead time tightens,
motions you to stay,
shaking your limp hand and body.