Lethargy

LETHARGY

Young folk in search of death

Running wisely after it

Eyes blinded by witchcraft of sight

Senses seared by the rust of lust

Till the death’s tentacles plunge deeper

Suck dry our life current

And we terribly fall drooping

Under the chilling shadows of hell

Fallen foolish warrior

Who need not have died

Young and of juvenile crop

Full of energy and strength

With quite a promising projection

But ceased for principle compromise’s sake

At the slight sup of temptation