And everything inside me’s still,
As if the wind has dropped.
I’m void of conscience, thoughts and will,
And every feeling’s stopped.
I look out through a pair of eyes
As empty as two holes,
And it should come as no surprise
I haven’t any goals.
In terms of that which others see,
I’m lonely and alone;
I’m nothing that they’d want to be –
As dreary as a drone.
And yet I’m just as much a part
Of being as the warmest heart.
Photo by Max van den Oetelaar on Unsplash
Transcendence
