Through hands a mess of particles
sliding and caressing towards it's origin.
what is the point of this…

In the vast expanse of desert.
A cold breeze leaves the mind withered.
The heart is left hollow, serene.

Alone the black seemed all consuming.
In time it envelops like satin sheets.
Oblivion turned comforting.

But this wasteland is but a mirage.
Beyond the brink is a skewed wall of glass.
Beyond the glass is a pulsing organism.
An anomaly in itself reveling in chaos.
Bringing in colors of light and shadow.
What would happen if it is let through?
Wild and exotic creatures could frolic
Vegetation can bring color to the atmosphere.

But would this hide away the Abyss?

Is this desert the reflection of death?
or is this just an illusion made by this glass?
it’s all so confusing behind these walls.

…unnecessary actions to partake in.
the particles have been gone for some time now.
maybe I’ll buy some pizza tonight.