Fatigue
Fatigue
had set in.
The man
drooped heavily
in the chair.
Lank limbs
fell into furrows
of cushioning.
A
deep
deep
tiredness
sank into his spirit
and
the weight
of his body
echoed
the weight upon
his heart and mind.
Fog filled his brain.
It was
as if all thought
had gone into slow motion.
A listless anxiety settled in.
He was concerned
that he felt so poorly.
Yet
he lacked
the strength of any kind
to correct it.
Hung
he did
on the day
and hoping
against all hopes
that a blessed sleep
would rest
upon him this night.
Simon C.J. Falk 18 March 2014
Simon's still stanza 