In the quagmire

I am in the clutches of boredom that seems to wrap around me like a heavy blanket. It suffocates my senses and it numbs my mind. I feel this mundane existence like a slow ticking of the clock or the perpetual drop of water from a broken tap into a tin bucket.  
I sit inert at my desk staring at an old photograph and the minutes drag on, elongating into hours. In my mind I walk through a monotonous landscape as the world lost its vibrant hues, fading into shades of grey.  I yearn for a spark, even a flicker of excitement to jump-start my life.
I sit in solitude waiting for the moment when I can stand up and break the silence and grab some unfulfilled potentials. I still hear the silence broken by the tick tock of the clock, reminding me of the passing of time.  It reminds me of the depth of my listlessness dragging me further into the abyss.
I wish I can crawl out of this state of inertia, but my thoughts drag me into a desolate realm that doesn’t give even a breath of inspiration. I wish I can breathe this into a poem and entertain the listlessness away. I wish this can propel me into the recesses of my soul, unearth dormant passions and hidden desires.