Скука

Another day I spend inside,

with naught but time who's on my side.

Time's whispers echo, amplified,

In realms where moments ossify.

And yet, with time we all shall know,

That there is purpose in the snow.

When winter comes it's sure to show,

That most good things must come and go.

A solemn visitor laments my mind,

Of tedium overstaying its welcome in my life.

In its presence, simple moments slow I find,

Dragging hours, dragging time.

A suffocation starts to rise and climb,

Beneath the weight of stillness something lies.

A deep desire for elation to sublime,

This feeling doesn't stay, it has its times.

So I embrace this muted day of mine,

Find beauty in this brief dismay, I try.

I clear and pave my path, time after time,

Turn waiting to a blessed stay, and sigh.