Sitting on a black stone,
cold and grounded in the soil.
The weight of my body
pulls me down,
my dreams spoils.
My devil is present,
sitting cruelly on my shoulder.
The devil of apathy
makes me heavy,
holding me with images older.
Fears, doubts and pain
the devil knows to keep.
The master of apathy –
makes me sleepy
but he never goes to sleep.
There is only one way out:
fears, doubts and pain to release,
to wing my dreams
and fly to freedom,
so this apathy to cease.
Poetry of Living 