There’s nothing much I can vouch for
Except the endless abyss
That pervades my being.
For better or for worse,
I have learnt to live with it.
This blankness is a part of me now –
Islands of nothingness
Surrounded by all that is known.
No tinge of emotions,
No taste of tears
That might give sense to these voids.
The world does not know
What these islands entail,
The happy eyes can’t see
The fiend behind this mask,
Who toils day and night
To gather contrived appreciations:
Who knows they are preposterous,
But seeks them nonetheless,
Since home is beyond reach,
Somewhere in the depths of this emptiness.