My vacant eyes are a mirror,
Reflecting the deepest parts
Of a soul filled with nothingness.
I've begun to recognise the aimless.
I've begun to to want an end.
There's no beauty in the darkest places,
If you have ever lived there.
I'm not frightened; but that does
Not imply I'm to be called brave;
That's a sacred word for few,
For the few who always come out smiling.
Can I bring myself out of this void?
I cannot answer it myself, for
I am the nothing I've become.