Symphony of Apathy



My hands are tied,
but my mind still wonders.
Various what ifs.
And an honest eulogy.

My voice was cut off,
but my feet still hurts.
A murder plot was formed,
with no obvious victim.

No remorse would arrive soon,
but regret is already sitting pretty
on its throne,
grinning gleefully.

The other side
of cruel love
is not humble hate,
but a merciful apathy.


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