The Depths of Good Friday

Blank black space
it almost consumes the eye
daring images to appear
and leaving imprints in the memory
I wallow in the emptiness
feeling grief in waves of silence
there is nothing,

nothing

nothing

it speaks
all is naught and for naught goes
I don't believe
miracles of miracles
transforms our inner knowledge
breathe in the blank black space
breathe in the nothingness of mind
breathe in the lack of emptiness
breathe out the unspoken, the unknown,
the hope of marauding dawn

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