Where time is still,
Sloth, the silent thief, works its ill.
A slumberous haze, a lethargic mire,
In shades of blue, it quenches the fire.

Blue, the color of a listless sky,
In sloth’s embrace, ambitions lie.
A languid river, unmoved and slow,
Drowning purpose in a tranquil flow.

Eyes heavy with the weight of delay,
Dreams adrift, like ships astray.
In the sea of idleness, where currents deceive,
Sloth casts a spell that’s hard to leave.

Yet, in the quiet moments of reprieve,
A choice emerges, a chance to weave.
A tapestry bold, with threads of action,
To banish the blue, regain traction.

Shake off the chains of indolent slumber,
Awaken the spirit from its languid lumber.
In the canvas of life, paint a vibrant hue,
As sloth retreats, and purpose anew.