Mind dulled and thoughts fading
adrift as an anchorless ship.
Body numbed, soul sliping away
down a melancholic river of apathy.
Swirling clouds of angels crowd round my head
crying out for good works to be fulfilled.
Boredom and desperation my only aides.
Dispair and mystification my only inspiration,
leading my mind to pleasant thoughts of anarchy.
On one shoulder sits the melodious voice of good.
On the other rests the tempting voice of evil.
The indistinguishable line fading visibly
between acts of rigor and acts of sloth.
Where does one's moral compass point in such times?
Where does one's efforts lead before the bell to recess chimes?
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