She would glance up at the sterling lights in the sky surrounded by their black blanket of night, hoping to find the hidden secrets behind them. Secrets are always hidden by beautiful things...
She sighed softly and glanced down upon her feet that sway oh so slightly in the water below, she was alone.
She couldn't help but think to herself if there was someone out there that saw the world as she did, and if so, why do they hide like the secrets in the sky... the young girl brought her feet up out of the water and stood.
Why ponder on a thought of no existence, she said shutting the door to her house and her heart.

My mama used to tell me
Keep moving, don’t stop!
She says that all the time
But sometimes I wonder
What if I stop to ponder?
Does it mean I’ve shunned her?
What if I’m on a wrong track?
Will I find my way back?
I’d rather be slow on a right track
Than be fast on a wrong one
So I said to her
Mama, I don’t mean to be rude
But I won’t just keep moving
I will stop at some points
And look at my compass
To be sure I’m still on track
Because it is not how far but how well

As time passes,
I ponder in my sleep,
Flying to Jupiter,
Slaying monsters and dragons,
Incapable of running away,
Loving forever,
Even walking around bare,
However I remain curious,
For what the next night brings.

What is the void?
Nothingness manifested?
There can’t really be such a thing…
How can there be nothing?

It’s impossible.

You can’t fault me for having trouble wrapping my head around an idea as intricate and deeply infinite as nothing. From a young age, we’re taught that everything, even empty space, is created from protons, neutrons,  subatomic particles…

Empty space is always made from something else.

Some describe the void not as a place, but instead as spiritual enlightenment and/or liberation. As detachment from everything. Some describe entering the void as the moment one realizes that if you try too hard to understand then you will miss the point; as the moment where the student realizes that he will never be able to anticipate his masters surprise attack, so, instead of being anxious he accepts his inability to know; as the understanding that holding on is suffering and letting go is freedom.

There is no way to truly talk about the void, about emptiness, because there is nothing tangible to be expressed in words. And yet, our curious human minds are so fixated on using dialogue to try and articulate this commodity.

Words will always fail.

Even if we could wrap our heads around this idea of emptiness, this complete and total lack of anything (comfort, love, hate, despair, joy, happiness, agony(all pieces of this complicated fabric known as human existence)) we would descend into the deepest and darkest of melancholies. The sudden moment of realization that non-being and being are one and the same and that the only thing separating the two is the awareness of being aware and the unawareness of being unaware would be too much to endure. The weight of realizing that nothing is everything, that we are 0 (placeholders for nothing (the extinction of our species before a return to nature untainted imminent)) would prove to be the strongest link of all in these shackles of existence.

What is the void?

Maybe it’s best not to ponder this any further.

Dimension beginning of vile ****** exposed,
And the Emperor has no clothes,
While helplessly strut a mighty walk without a shame.

Course of history repeating itself,
Like the flow of water meeting in the river of streams,
But recycle through the clouds and back to the ground it flows.

Are we so blinded by the glimmer of the mirage of oasis in the desert,
We toast with sands of dune to quench our thirst of our plight,
And all is but a fickling light ducktaped by words of unintelligible muddled murmur?

This is truly the flawed design of our time,
When we no longer promote arts and crafts of philosophies,
And religious cults of zealots condemned the science and Academia by berating it's achievement.

Likes of ancient times of Agora and the height of it's human enlightenment,
There are forces of deconstruction of society of choas ensued by hateful fear mongers,
And systematic inward of national fevor of berserkers leveling progress.

Maybe another dark age is inevitable,
But little seed of hope I feel tangible,
And sometimes event maybe a phoenix.