VOID

My thoughts are bound tight, they shuffle along the baron streets of my mind, their chains clink and scrap along my grey matter pathways, they are prisoners here, the spark of inspiration has died, it is now cold and dark, the oceans of imagination have dried, leaving nothing but sand that is tossed about in the wind, death is a blessing for them, for if they are not granted a peaceful and quiet death they are cursed with a perpetual sickness, they will change in time, possibly they will go mad, here in the blackness they rot, corruption takes over, mindlessly they wander, the insertion point of the word document flashes like a warning sign, accident ahead, proceed with caution, the floodgates have been sealed off, my mind has been quarantined, my heart has ceased to communicate, for there is no longer anyone to translate what is says, my face is as a stone now, for there are no longer emotions to be conveyed, joy has vacated this body, for there is only numbness occupying it now, I have become the void.