a kind of lethargy

a kind of lethargy fills every limb
there's strong desire the anger to disown
that leads to acting on a silly whim
and gets the bravest idiot turned to stone
each of us faces the monster unknown
to all the other heroes on the hunt
so not a one is there to hear each groan
or laugh at yet another stupid stunt
the loser turns out not to be the runt

where life and horror seem to intersect
as if the stars and planets could align
to proclaim our hopes base and abject
in face of pain and sorrow to divine
just who belongs and who has the death sign
the whole event turns out to be a game
and to the watcher all must seem just fine
with no excuse for pride or even shame
since all that's shown is neat within its frame

a kind of mortal magic we might find
on all the pathways that we choose to tread
we're not the best or worst of humankind
but too few thoughts remain inside each head
and all the lines that lead to home are dead
we have to find our way back through the rain
without a backward glance and without dread
knowing that every step would bring more pain
we do not plan to go that way again