Poems (Hazlett-Bevis)/Apathy
Apathy.
It steals along the nerves, And touches every part; Then snake-like winds and curves And twines about the heart. It soothes the flagging pulse With flatteries of balm, And drags down, to repulse All efforts of true calm. It strikes with poisened tongue, The center of the mind; And leaves the soul among Old ruins—stark, and blind.