Idle Hands + Standing Still

In the quiet corners where shadows blend, Lie idle hands that twist and bend. Silent whispers in the night’s cool breeze, Hands with time, but no purpose to seize. Fingers tracing paths on a dusty floor, Seeking meaning, pleading for more. The clock ticks by with a steady sound, Yet these hands remain, tied and bound. Dreams once vibrant, now dulled with time, Idle hands linger, mired in grime. Lost in thought, they weave and thread, In the tapestry of the mind, where memories are spread. The world outside is bright and bold, But idle hands, grow so cold. In the hush of dawn, a silent plea, For something more than what is, to be. In their stillness, there's a spark, A hidden desire, a waiting arc. For idle hands, though quiet and still, Hold within the power to build, to fill. One day they’ll rise with newfound grace, To shape, to mold, to find their place. No longer bound by silent fears, Idle hands will conquer years. [End] In the quiet hush of morning's grace, Where shadows play on a silent face, I stand alone in a timeless space, Idle in life's relentless race. The world spins fast, a ceaseless blur, Dreams and goals in constant stir, Yet here I am, no will to confer, A static soul, no paths to defer. Days blend into nights so deep, Promises made, but none to keep, While others soar, I merely creep, A dormant heart, in endless sleep. Eyes gaze upon horizons wide, Where hopes and fears in tandem ride, Yet here I linger, nowhere to stride, A tethered spirit, a drifting tide. What dreams may come, I cannot tell, For in this stasis, I dwell and dwell, No rise, no fall, no voice, no yell, Just echoes of what once befell. In this stillness, there's a plea, A silent call to set me free, To break this stasis, to finally see, The life that waits, the life for me. So as I stand, in this idle place, I seek the strength, I seek the grace, To move beyond, to find my pace, And join the world in its fervent chase. [End]