Zero
Zero is a bright flash
A quick existence gone into
A nonexistent antiparticle
Blipping in and out
In, smooth radiowaves
It is the sun, composed of a whole
Circle, the kind of perfect being
One zero is one and one only
The consciousness
The perception
Or the soft ripples in the water
Fleeting away from
Or a ways back from
Consciousness, sentience, wild time
That only allows them to dissipate
Zero is the symbol for off
One of two that has built coincidentally
That has allowed us to exist this way
A paradox of nothing and something
This zero lives within our processors
Or is it the origin, 0, 0, 0
So that we our reminded the very tiny instant of time
(Which do to the constraints of calculus limits, we will never touch)
Our birth, our graduation, our marriage, the last time we slept
Is that zero?
Or is zero nothing, the mark of
Everything that we lack
The absence of emotion
The death, the end
The possibility of beginning?
Zero is a bright flash
Of glory, of hate
Flitting in and out of existence
A soul that does not belong
A world that is incomplete
