Fear the stillness whers't thou find
the dreary life and idle mind,
wherein thine own reflection lies
a baleful thing with glassy eyes.
Let horror of this fill thine heart,
to maul thy slothy core apart.
Ignite within thine blighted soul,
a fire that should cleanse it whole.
Let passion rouse it from thine state,
that thou shalt grasp the skeins of fate.
Thus boldly stride a person who,
was born, hath died, is born anew.
Stagnation can indeed be a hateful thing which most of us, at some point, find ourselves in... waiting, just waiting.
