CHAPTER FOUR
SLOTH
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You, god of the lazy,
that did less than nothing
its whole existence.
You, that guide humans to the failure,
that guide animals to the starvation,
and the progress to stagnation.
You sit there,
in a throne of pillows and blankets,
never taking your eyes off
from the light screen in front of you,
never moving from place,
never reacting,
never creating hopes and dreams,
always dying, before even living.
YOU ARE READING
Deadly Sins
Poetry"Our sins are more easily remembered than our good deeds." - Democritus © 2017 autumn meinhardt
