The Nothing

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Nothing is all I have:

I do not know if that is enough.

Nothing is what seems to satisfy this mind.

Nothing fulfills me like Nothing itself,

and yet I long for more.

Disillusioned with the illusion of Time;

Not a complaint, ’tis only a glimpse

of my honest sharing.

I lose my patience to be forbearing,

then seek it back only in waiting,

for my sweet, promised hearing.

This Form, loses form

In anticipation of a demise,

Only God could ever know

of this aching sacrifice.

I must sedate the demons inhabiting this frame.

I know the rules too, yet fail to interpret

How to shift courses of an unwinding game:

Nothing to quieten thus; and Nothing to tame.

She was bestowed a valuable, the value unknown.

Now I toss it in the river, the river from her dream:

Was the river me? Or am I a sprouting stream?

The precious belongs to the beautiful,

To the other than I; she is not mine to keep.

We share dreams no more, even in my deepest of sleep!

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