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.
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