The Void

The Void.
How could one sense the Void?
How could I feel the difference.

All right life, you got me. Jokes up.
But is it up? Or is it just starting?
A mustard seed is all I need. Maybe it would take hold of this poor soul and give it something to hold onto.

I'm tired of fighting, caring, trying.
I'm tired. Drained physically and mentally, I'm a brain dead zombie walking these ethereal halls of embodiment so far to as a place I can't find the exit!
Why try man?
I'm so sick of effort being overlooked by blind eyes of deaf ears that can't make heads or tails of a situation so clear and blunt… That they can't put 2 and 2 together.

I swear I'm giving up this fight.
Until you can give me some hopeful form of sight of some worthy place of living… I don't want to go.

I'm so sick of everything I do that's for the betterment of myself and others be overlooked due to my shortcoming or comings so short that you'd call them dwarves.

I promise if you heard the clicking of keys you'd not understand. You'd not understand the pain and depression felt to make a beautiful picture out of one long sentence with no pauses. You would not understand.

I stand at the edge of the Void. A fraction of length and time from plunging face first in the welcoming arms of my demons. So they can take me under. So I can forget all of my faults and look back, and finally be proud of who I have become