By Will Kellock
What if there was no beginning,
And all life was but an end,
A swirling void of nothingness
Drowning in the orchestra of silence?
Just endless matter,
Arranged in a way without design
Or purpose, meaning or reason,
An infinite lack of finite boundaries;
Cold and dark.
In this desolation,
It would be easy for us
To gaze into the distance and be apathetic,
Ignorant and even standoffish towards the darkness;
For truly, it is without light;
Just a maddening and dizzying cacophony of noiseless sound
Reaching into the distant distance.
And yet,
In this darkness,
Are we not the ones who shine?
We stand upon the precipice of the world
And we see that it is empty,
A swirling void, a blank canvas,
Starched, primed and ready to embrace
The paint of our thoughts and soul.
So open that tin of paint
And let your heart bleed into the void.
But as you stare into its depths
Know that it stares back.
Will Kellock is in the final year of an English and German degree at Manchester Met. He writes under the name The Purple Poet.
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