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.