Cloaked and Clocked

Vibrating at the lowest
still breathing my last,
my frequency often skips
a beat and I die ----
death for a human
couple of seconds.

I've been cloaked
in this Black Hole of
discontent for so long
the faint vibration
is now my norm and of
a comfortable niche.

Moments in time
clock their way by
my wayside,
watching me draw in,
suck in all who cross
the gravitational pull
of my desires.
Try as I might, I
cannot help but destroy
what I've invited in.

Content now to devour
every erg and urge of
energy from every single
living piece of shit. . .
I am left alone
in the universe to an
eternity of emptiness
and satiation.

I am a poor excuse of
yin and yang ----
still seeking my White Hole
companion.