What’s beyond nothing?

A shell is only worth what is inside it. A husk is only needed when there are contents to shelter. A house is only useful if there is someone to live in it.

A body whose soul has been vacated. A physicality that is dull with personality. A presence that is absent of being.

An ember which emits no light. A voice that can not produce a sound. A mind that thinks only in subconscious.

An eerie silence afraid of itself. A harrowing void beyond quantity. An unconscious set of feet that can go nowhere.

What good is a body if it is equivalent to inanimacy; without the will nor power to exert living tendencies?

A rock contains greater potential and possibility for usefulness to the living. It is lucky to wish itself to be used.

A silent mind. A deceitful resemblance of life. A walking object.

A purposeless existence. A pointless waking. A taciturn day.

A limb to stare at. A tongue to move aimlessly behind its gates. A mind set to rot.

A subtracted personality. An inverted introvert. A cowering conscious.

What good is searching for a lost thought with no certainty it ever existed; hidden behind a psychological delusion?

An existential implosion, recognising the mind can fathom nothing more than insignificance.

A desert with less. A fog without fog. An impossible comprehension.

A quiet beyond sound. A confine without parameter. A sentient without gravity.

A thought without substance. An existence without actuality. A purpose of zero.

A muscle dehydrated. A comprehension stunted. A will of vacuity.

What confusion exists outside of darkness; meaning lost in the shortcomings of traditional language?

Staring into space, feel the mind push on the skull, experiencing nothing.