An Apathetic Realm

To dwell in an apathetic realm between darkness and light, not caring if people hear or listen to me, would be a plight. Being stoical, taciturn and indifferent to pain or pleasure, when emotions are unsung for there are none to measure. Being aloof could never be my long-term objective. I'm not passive about things, but it's a stoic's perspective, that being neutral prevents them from becoming fraught over things they deem inconsequential, and care naught. They wear the blank expression of a cow ruminating cud. Though thorns may stab their flesh, tears will never flood. In silence they suffer pain as if their heart has been ablated, accepting apathy as the destiny with which they were fated. Let others bow and pray to stone images of gods they make. Fools, who do not know sentiments can cause heartache. Stoicism is a concept, the accepted philosophy of the mind. They find tranquility when indifferent, but I am not that kind. Apatheia is the goal, detachment from pleasured passion, but I'd not be stoic if love is an emotion I'd have to ration. Tears well in my eyes when whispered words of love I hear. I'm not stoical by nature. There are too many things I revere.