A moon, monochromatic and depleted of color. The black sky barely showing us what lies ahead of the atmosphere that we breathe.
Just a peak, that's all it allows.
A peak of infinite vast, a void so complex yet so simple. Only made of mere concept and complex ideal.
A dangerous place filled with destruction and creation, nothing being spared within its coils.
It's so beautiful, so terrifyingly beautiful.
To know that your existence is so simple, so tiny, so naive.
To know none of it will matter, none of it, none of it will make a difference to the void just beyond the moon.
It all makes it worth the more.
Don't you want to watch and see what happens?
It may mean nothing- but doesn't the nothing make it worth something?
Black and white from a far, but so colorful up close. Color in concept, never in ideal. It's such an odd, beautiful, terrifying, bewildering concept.
I envy the vast, complex existence. To be everything and nothing at once.
I wish for such a simple conclusion to existence.
YOU ARE READING
Sickening Poetry
PoéziaJust a poem book, mostly small, short poems. Maybe a big poem here and there but This is just for fun. Nothing serious.
