Boredom is settling in again

Like a thick layer of aged dust
On the topmost shelf in the library
Where no one seems able to reach
And disperse it

Like the smooth snow on the meadow
That covers the grass and muffles the view,
Wrapped up in the hooded cloak
Of soft silence

Like the smoke from numerous chimneys
That obliterates the sight of the sky
That swathes and numbs down
The reality’s roar

Boredom is settling in again

Like the fog above the slick, glassy,
In no way ruffled, surface of the water
While the gargantuan scaly monster
Stirs in slumber underneath