Within the everlasting nothingness
temporary are we
like the click of a finger
signifies your moment has gone
and death comes swiftly
on his Harley
wheacking you away
sickle-free
black-hooded
we are so temporary
we just miss not existing at all
and some of us, sadly,
actually don't live at all,
just die in every moment
they live
we are moments away from a single moment
that defines our non-existence
enough is never enough
but less is all we have
and vacuum is our truth
emptiness our game
life our sweet nothing
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