Woe, To The Ineffable Catalyst. Poem by C.D. Xiang

I peruse the tome,
The hackneyed lethargy I exudes
Is irrevocable.

I repose, solitary,
But the mirths keep me awake.

Ergo I get up,
Being melancholy,
And pour a cup of water,
Thereafter slurping it.
But being lone,
I could not relish the putative taste.

I feel indisposed,
But those mirths is eternal,
Those tormentors,
Is full of hatred.

This is ineffable,
And I retrace my steps
To the catalyst.