Tiredness creeps around the eyelids

Tiredness creeps around the eyelids
The body quietly revolts against industry
The horror, the despair of having nothing to do.
A voice calls, as from a distance
Accusing, pleading,
Praying that I would live this day worthily
And how would I begin?
I have been here many times before
Each time forgetting how beset to set out.
I lived today without consciousness
And now, to my dismay, it is already evening,
The cold regret of living without fixed purpose
Of allowing life to buffet me in its waves
Of offering it no resistance.