There is a sorrow at the good, a listlessness understood,
An ἀκηδία of the soul, all the things a wouldn't should,
This one feels long in the quiet a thought finally loosens
Without care, concern, lack uncertain apathetic noosens
That weariness deep inside of a desert noonday demon,
A heavy drifting carries me nothing wandering ******
Evagrius Ponticus cuts me--a dull sound in a lost blade,
Disengaged meaning no touch kisses in always a shade,
The world is still there, but never reaches in a deep you
Retire from life goals purpose an absence of urgent blue
Not a call or whisper a desire so real fails to rise a dawn
A beauty so distant it dreams of me fading underdrawn
Not gone muted, a kind cruel empty gray resides inside
Withdraw, somehow a rust cracks, as the old in us died,
But in a quiet turn a space yet to be a peace lingers born
Tired of all the striving, simply stops us soft in a forlorn
Not abandoned, silence, begins on it's own to feel again,
Stay there w/me, there even there especially there begin.
3d ago
Jun 2, 2026 at 8:03 AM UTC
There is a sorrow at the good, a listlessness understood,
An ἀκηδία of the soul, all the things a wouldn't should,
This one feels long in the quiet a thought finally loosens
Without care, concern, lack uncertain apathetic noosens
That weariness deep inside of a desert noonday demon,
A heavy drifting carries me nothing wandering ******
Evagrius Ponticus cuts me--a dull sound in a lost blade,
Disengaged meaning no touch kisses in always a shade,
The world is still there, but never reaches in a deep you
Retire from life goals purpose an absence of urgent blue
Not a call or whisper a desire so real fails to rise a dawn
A beauty so distant it dreams of me fading underdrawn
Not gone muted, a kind cruel empty gray resides inside
Withdraw, somehow a rust cracks, as the old in us died,
But in a quiet turn a space yet to be a peace lingers born
Tired of all the striving, simply stops us soft in a forlorn
Not abandoned, silence, begins on it's own to feel again,
Stay there w/me, there even there especially there begin.
There is an ἀκηδία (akēdía) of the soul that seems to reach us in the unaware parts of life where we seem to wonder in the lost of us just letting the current float us, the stars stop and slide us, the green grass turns gray, sepia in a dark room, what is the point, but I hear you say.
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