When love dies, where does it go?
When hope fades, what let’s us know?
When emptiness comes, is it meant to consume?
Or is it what’s left, and it takes all the room,
But it feels like a block, emptiness has its own feel,
Can that mean it’s a lack? is the feeling less real?
Is it just nothings here, no bad or no good?
Is it just we don’t care, when we think that we should?
Does it come from the pain? To protect us at last,
Because all else has died, we can’t live in the past,
But where is compassion? Does the pain **** that too?
Do our souls get too twisted?
Resentment can’t be seen through?
Or does it mean we’re just out, of love, hope and such,
Or am I not thinking, or I’m thinking too much.

JDoyle