About the Poem
This is a tough poem to write a description for. How can you describe pure emptiness, overwhelming uselessness, nonethingness. there was no special circumstance which led me to write this poem. These are simply feelings I deal with on a daily basis. I know there must be others out there who share similar feelings, therefore I'm willing to share this quite personal piece.
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|by Michael Anderson|
Void, canceled, simply annulled.
Endlessly aching, unconsoled.
Life without you, cause without reason.
Touch without sense, time without season.
I face life now facing a cancerous sore,
A sordid parasite that eats at my core.
All that makes me whole, all I hold deep within,
Leaving me lifeless, or at least not livin'.
A shallow face, anguished and marred.
An empty space, scaled and scarred.
Sweetly abiding to a cynical charade.
Secretly hiding 'hind a fictitious facade.
Still, lost within this heart of glass,
This fragile and yet unfeeling mass.
Lies the remains of a love that glowed,
The gift to you I once bestowed.
But honor and pride now bereaved-
By your love for me so misconceived,
Ripped from my inner depths, impeding-
Mind and body and spirit, bleeding;
Now's crushed to sand from thy ruthless hand,
A cold stare I just can't understand.
I feel that somehow, somehow I'm dying,
At least my soul and all that's underlying.
A simple void, is that what I've become?
The hollowed sphere on a pendulum.
Swinging back and forth, emotion to emotion,
Never once stopping, nor slowing the motion.
No reason, no answer, no justification.
The creation of a sterile imagination.
Just passing through time as time passes me.
Merely a nothing- nothing, merely, left to be.
Sightless and soundless, unseen and unheard.
Mindless and boundless, obscure and absurd.
All empathy lying ungraced, unemployed,
I live my life dying, unembraced, a void.