Empty

Cold
Biting cold
Flowing through you as you stand at the precipice of the void
Staring down at that black hole of energy
Where motivation, dreams and life go to die
As you freeze, you’re left yearning, grasping for

Warmth
Phantom warmth
Can you even remember that sensation?
The mere concept is fading, seems so far away
You clutch that abstract concept, given form as it’s dragged towards the void
You seek substance, it should have it, yet you find that it’s only

Hollow
Oh, so hollow
You try to let go of it, unsatisfied, disappointed
But as wholeness eludes you, you’ve become attracted to its opposite
Unable to let it go, you accept it, absorb it, become it
You despair but soon are unable to as from you leaves all

Feeling
What’s this feeling?
The new lack thereof interests you
You’re no longer cold, no longer yearning, no longer despairing, and no longer you
But you are you, wholly you, ironically, hollow as you are
You look down again into the void, expecting nothing but the darkness, but see

Yourself
Yes, yourself
Staring, waving, shouting something inaudible
Throwing concepts, faces, feelings, memories at you
The void is too deep for them to reach you at the edge
And ultimately what you gain from this doppelganger is

Nothing
Absolutely nothing
You turn your head and begin to walk away from the precipice
Before you’re too far, you look back, curious to see if you are still in the void
Curious to see if you still beckon, wanting to see yourself one last time
But, when you stare back down into the void, you find that it’s

Empty