Acedia

Idle hands scorching a trail Through the Capitol Closed mouths and hearts turn daggers Biting our own tongues And the streets are red rivers Through which they drive golden chariots over the backs of their forefathers Words falter, slave and master plebeian and patrician And whips silence in return They dream of a revolt While breaking their necks to bow We do protest hotly In secret chambers Tear down the throne! Hang the tyrants! A bloody revolution! Let's then schedule it for the King's convenience Hear she comes, most lovely She'd slit our throats With pleasure O Gods save our Queen! She'll pluck this acedia from our cold dead hands! Slaughter the innocent Distract us with wars! O Brutus save us from our apathy! What will it take for our walls to break? O give us liberty or at least grain at our own price! Give us our tribunes! There can be no Republic until the people speak themselves ------------- Inspired by my research for a story. This deals specifically with the establishment of the Roman Republic, but plenty of this still rings true to me. Acedia = apathy.