idle worship
you worship a broken and dying vessel
and pour out all your effort into that belief
maintaining the evil of weakness
relishing the absence of strength
you wander in hopelessness wanting to feel
and seeking out pleasures and moments
repeating the cycle again and again
until everything about you is worthless
and you feel in dark moments
the call to adventure
but you do not know how to respond
be it fear or impotency
or just lack of effort you
stick to the path you are on
do not question it again
your misery is valid
everything that hurts within you
is burning and trying to make you better
the lostness is crying out to God
and you gag it 'till it's silent
trading in a few small actions
for ever deepening fantasies
and spiraling cacophonies
of emotional depravity
and childlike wonder turned sour by addiction
and at some point, yes, it's too late.