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None at All

You will watch,
From your throne, high up in the
starless sky,
And see numbers slowly, one by one,
Count down to your own,
There is no guilt here.

You will go,
as you please, come as you please, walk,
where you wish, and
Say what you want,
Yet, return everytime, you must,
To this place of naught and nothings,
Because you haven't a choice
There is no regret here.

You will ride the wind,
Almost like were you born as
one with the gusts of such air,
Calling out words to those whom are,
to be tricked by such
Lies,
There is no freedom here.

You will continue to,
Coldly conduct your experiments,
For the sake of doing something you,
still recognize, still know,
Because that is the only way,
to partly ensure you're still existing, here, and not,
think in such a place,
There is no hope here.

You will do what you do,
Watch and not,
Speak, is this right?
If result is there no longer, you may ask,
You might ask,
What must be done then?
There is no justice here.

You will question,
Everything now is worthy of a
question or two, or perhaps,
more even,
Puzzle your path through, scheme you way,
around with second thoughts, you are second-guessing,
There is no answer here.

You will fall to your kness,
At the edge of a lake where the ground
is licked by the clear water,
And there shall you see, diviner, a reflection,
of the moon in the middle, and,
When you turn to the sky you find no such thing,
There is no light here.

You will chase after,
what you like to think of as your heart,
Not the lost and gone for now one, but
A new one,
And you shall do everything, anything you
can to get it back, and you believe
There is no wishing here.

You will sit,
Gazing into the far off distance, smiling
At the stretch of black sky,
And, instrument at hand,
Be reminded of the pleasant things that
once filled the now empty place
almost painfully, almost feelingly, almost heartily,
There is no soul here.

You will risk nothing,
because that is all you have to lose,
and perhaps, only that to win,
At the back of your mind you hear,
A soft repititve sound,
tick tock tick tock
Time is running out,
There is no victory here.

You will lead,
half of six and an additional one to death,
And call your own over,
What are your reasons, nobody
might ask,
They don't know,
There is no loyalty here.

You will follow another,
Because you wish to and that
is more than reason enough,
Enjoy the little charade being played out,
before you while you can because,
Soon it will all end, and you will fight,
And you will lose,
There is no return here.

You will leave,
To find your Other half,
thinking only of yourself which
is probably for the best,
And you will meet the one you have been
looking for,
With the help of,
someone you know,
someone you once knew,
Two halves put together,
equals to one,
And that is that,
There is no emptiness here any longer.

But for all others,
nobody is still nothing, almost,
and nothing is really,
no thing at all.

End

Thank you for reading this!