Fatigue

Dripping fatigue -
melting in tired
folds to sag
in puddles -
skin
against bones so
full of weary aching.

I plod.

I drag my feet
another step
another day
into the night
of Stygian existence
that threatens
to engulf
as I clutch with
weary
numb
heart
and fingers to
an existence
half asleep.

Pomegranate seeds
of mortality
deem a stay beneath
in mortal gloom.
Exhausted -
sapped
to wake again.

Some days
immortal Spring
seems far
and impossible
as I plod -

weary

Dripping in fatigue.

© Eleanor Clark
22 October 2013