So full of emptiness

Each miniscule fibre

Vibrates with

Intensity of far off star-

What are orbs but eyes

Perceiving cold blankness

Of space

Hurtling ever out

Never to return?

What this mouth but

Screeching creation-

May hole be made

From black despair?

Rips in fabric

Reveal scarlet lining of

Life-

And way beyond all

Understanding a

Solidity of

Unremarkable

Faith-

What can possibly go

Wrong?

Why everything of

Course

And yet

Yet