I whine about the impossibility
of putting to word
such superficialities
as the beauty and horror
of the truth
yet am ashamed of my ignorant abuse
applying such imaginary qualities
to that which is
and by it's being
makes all equal nothing
but it gives a laugh
when after creating for nothing(ness)
about nothing
the realization dawns
I notice (very fittingly)
that indeed I have created nothing
and the implications about me
and you
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