Distorted void  

What if void is the way of the world

To feel nothing is in fact the way to be

And bodily death is what our souls truly await?

What if equilibrium is where eternity resides

But we chase chaos in the name of growth

What if the true purpose is to be forgotten

But to be remembered is why we think we live

And each time we’re remembered, our body flinches in the grave?

What if an empty mind is a rare privilege

Complete lack of ambition the path to salvation

Pitch black the ultimate truth of the universe

And all matter is in fact just clutter?

What if the rat race of growth a facade

Hiding man’s inability to harness nothingness

Softening the fear of absolute detachment

& compensating the impossible path to seamless oblivion?

What is stillness after all that persists endlessly

With no logic that explains its being

With no man venturing into its territory

With power enough to yet draw everything in with no exit?

Isn’t void the only thing that doesn’t fade

Is it where we’re truly headed

Is it after all the eternal truth

And all else a fearful escape from the incomprehensible end?