I've not been content with the empty spaces
Let alone appreciated them
Greedy to fill them with my own thoughts
My own dreams, my own desires, my own need
My, my, my, my
Never once thinking that the void is infinite
Offers nothing, consumes all
Could care less about my, my, my, my
Let alone my inability to appreciate them
I seek to fill them to sate my own narcissism
To work a fine piece of alchemy
Upon a golem
A frightening, lifeless husk of flesh and bones
Perfectly content with it's station
The last thing in the world it needs
Is me for a soul
A new life, a new purpose
A real "yes man"
Elemental body eternal, regenerated with time and coincidence
Spirit trapped within, room to spare
The perfect companion, yet still I am unsatisfied
If only I could turn the tables
Denigrate the good times
For their rarity
Perhaps make peace with the boredom
I would be glad to sacrifice
All this insignificance I've collected throughout the years
Place it in perfect perspective
Stand back and take in the beauty
Of how nothing in this world is mine
Except, perhaps, nothing at all
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 4:44 AM UTC
I've not been content with the empty spaces
Let alone appreciated them
Greedy to fill them with my own thoughts
My own dreams, my own desires, my own need
My, my, my, my
Never once thinking that the void is infinite
Offers nothing, consumes all
Could care less about my, my, my, my
Let alone my inability to appreciate them
I seek to fill them to sate my own narcissism
To work a fine piece of alchemy
Upon a golem
A frightening, lifeless husk of flesh and bones
Perfectly content with it's station
The last thing in the world it needs
Is me for a soul
A new life, a new purpose
A real "yes man"
Elemental body eternal, regenerated with time and coincidence
Spirit trapped within, room to spare
The perfect companion, yet still I am unsatisfied
If only I could turn the tables
Denigrate the good times
For their rarity
Perhaps make peace with the boredom
I would be glad to sacrifice
All this insignificance I've collected throughout the years
Place it in perfect perspective
Stand back and take in the beauty
Of how nothing in this world is mine
Except, perhaps, nothing at all
© 2010 by James Arthur Casey
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