VOID

Nothing

Nil

Zip

Nada

No sound, All is as silent as the ocean floor

No aroma, not even the scent of a single rose.

No up or down.

No people, as vacant as a small town main street at 3am.

No wind, as calm as the midnight darkness

No heat.  It is so cold, as cold as the ice buried deep in the South Pole.

No love nor hate, nor fear nor courage

No hope or expectations.

Nothing to touch, no liquid or solid.

Nothing to see and no light to see it by.  All is as dark as the blackest of India inks.

           

A huge, overwhelming void of nothingness with only a memory of what once was:

The laughter of a child. 

The aroma of freshly baked bread.

The sound of the wind in the leaves. 

The love of a woman.

            Rain drops on the face.

It scares me that I am capable of such thinking.