Living is just nothing
Knowing that each day does
Carry you closer to
Dawn of no tomorrows

I still see the beauty
In every tree and field
But there is none in me
So blue cold, so bled out

So what is nothing, then?
Just a word to answer
The unwanted question
"What is so wrong with you?"

Could nothing be the thing
That happens afterward
When even the beauty
Tired eyes no longer see?

Or is it what happens
When last you close your eyes
And let the darkness in
And don't expell come morn

Laying myself down low
Buzzards circle in gray
Moved by that graceful flight
Reason to continue

Just enough beauty there
To restore, circulate
Then expell dark once more
There is always something

With visage so grotesque
The vulture lifts to wing
And shows us how to make
A living from slow death

Kelly