Inertia

Counting hours turned to days I can’t reclaim
Praying for time to remain
All these demands on my attention,
all these appeals to my energy,
I have nothing to give.
Through the night I hear whispers calling my name.
Oh, the comfort of safety is my shame.
I am afraid I have nothing to offer,
all of my strength is exhausted by the thought of it.
Counting hours turned to days I can’t reclaim
Grieving for time thrown away
Why is complacency the convention?
I have conceded to apathy,
paralyzed by inertia.
Fear of failure breeds dissension
between the ache that’s inside of me
and the weight of depravity.