the weather sure is fun here...
Overwhelming lethargy has overtaken me.
Eyelids, leaden and morose, succumb to gravity.
Muscles, fraught with weariness, object to exercise.
Chest, relieved of burdened air, threatens not to rise.
My sluggish stride deliberate, at best a snail’s pace.
Dark circles and a tired frown afflict my fatigued face.
Under pressure from depression, brain in blank repose,
Heart struggling to keep in time, so slothfully it slows.
The very fiber of my being submits to this abuse;
Melancholy is my Hangman, and winter is his noose.
© Jeff Wilson, 2008
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