apathy

the apathy
it runs rampant on these long winter nights
slowly seeping into the most mundane of activities
until a sallow cloud of indifference hangs upon the air
like the stench of death on a battlefield
wanting for a breeze, no a great wind of change
to clear the air that we may breathe again
freely and without dread of the next moment's rigors
dead time
nothing but dead time these days
we all sit staring blankly at our screens waiting hoping that someone will speak
so that we can feel connected
to something anything in the expanse of nothingness that is our world
returning once again to the apathy
we all hate feeling lonely
that's what brings us here
solidtude eats at us
urging us forward
weary of our floating islands
drifting over rivers and seas of...nothing
or maybe we are drifting upon the souls of our departed kin
sailing on the river styx
hoping that soon we will again join the ranks
praying to no longer feel the empty utter nothingness that eats at us all like a plague upon the minds of man