Filling the void, artificial it is As empty as my thoughts,
A never ending endeavor to the bottom, Fearing for it to be bottomless,
But, maybe it is, maybe not.
The journey is dark through the bottom and a dark alley,
But one can light them up,
Colour them up, make the dark a decoration to it,
For ,the rest is after an unrest, for the Interest of dopamine was more in jeopardy, For if one remain vulnerable, he may make great painting.
So, the quest would still go on,
But the path would blossom ,and if we reach the bottom it would be already a caravan, and even if nothing initially, it would now beat a dusk.