Void

The moment I stepped inside the house A harsh feeling of pain is aroused Where do all things go? It seems everything just likes to flow What does a soul usually seek? Or it exists only to become meek? I thank every angel by my side Helping my spirit to come alight But how? How can it be more seen? For all things of wrath becomes clean? A voice only becomes a shrill When void becomes the essence of one's thrill For now, where do all things go? Does it fall into the abyss? Maybe no Wherever they are to be found A truthful eye will see it as profound