A Short Story of (Nearly) Nothing

A Short Story of (Nearly) Nothing

In a sea where the skies are blue,
terrified of only you.
Dwelling in oceans of purple haze,
through a misty maze.
Diving to the blackness before dawn,
before yesterday begun.

Where I will find nothing,
nothing at all.
Nothing comes from nothing,
nothing it will always be.
No more than I ever was,
nothing that is really me.

In a forest where the sun ’s not seen,
where the black was green.
Running through meadows of endless void,
it’s what we’ve destroyed.
Fighting to hold that light that ever shines,
held back by lines.

And I will find nothing,
nothing at all.
Nothing comes from nothing,
nothing it will always be.
No more than I ever was,
nothing that is really me.

The story continues as it doesn’t go on,
the darkness’ won.
Life lengthens every minute that goes by,
but I am still I.
Nothing ever changes, nothing always stays,
it finds its ways.

Nothing came from nothing
and so it will go on.
You can’t make something out of nothing,
circles don’t becomes lines.
The story continues on blank pages,
where everything is nothing and nothing is all.