There is no feeling, no cares for this life. It is a dreadful tar, black and bubbling, pulling me deeper and deeper with a faint gurgle. Hardly any noise at all. After an eternity of struggling, I'll eventually slide under, gasping, and it will fill my lungs. That is the end.
This shadow of apathy overcomes my heart. I care not about what's important and worry about what I cannot change.
What a life this shadow urges. So desirable the poison, I long to embrace the one who holds me down.
Rage surges against what's good, what the shadows flee from, but no rage surges against my captor. Held down forcibly, all energy taken and subdued, I love and sigh with relief.
How strange that I should feel in the agony of apathy.
Signed,
BrokenWing
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