The Void
A poem
It's not empty...
The void.
Some...
Thing...
A thing...
It lives in there...
The void.
Deep down...
Lurking...
Scheming...
In the darkness...
The void.
It's...
Not a spider...
No...
But it's like a spider...
Waiting...
In the centre of its web...
At the dark heart of...
The void.
You can't see it...
It's too dark down there...
The void.
But you can sense it moving...
Feel it moving...
That...
Thing...
The spidery...
Thing...
It's spindly, skeletal legs...
Stretching...
Exploring....
The void.
You can sense its...
What...?
Anger?
Loneliness?
Sadness?
No. Its..
Its...
Numbing, empty hate...
Down there...
The void.
That...
Thing...
I can feel its bristly legs...
Scratch at my tummy...
Me.
It wants me to join it in...
The void.
I won't.
About the Creator
Christopher Donovan
Hi!
Film, theatre, mental health, sport, politics, music, travel, and the occasional short story... it's a varied mix!
Tips greatly appreciated!!
Thank you!!
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