Sloth

In twilight's grasp, where shadows creep, Where sloth's embrace, in silence sleeps, Within my soul, a slumber deep, Sloth's lethargy, my spirit keeps. In languid hours and drowsy haze, My limbs grow heavy, in idle maze, For every task, my spirit delays, In sloth's grip, my soul betrays. From dawn's first light to twilight's gloom, My days drift by in endless plume, In sloth's embrace, there's only room, For lethargy's eternal bloom. Beneath the sun, where life does stir, Where dreams and hopes should ever spur, In sloth's embrace, I do confer, With idleness, my soul's deter. For in this heart of mine, so frail, Sloth's whispers, they endlessly assail, In lethargy, my spirit fails, And in its grip, my essence pales.