Floating (poem)

Floating through ash

amidst the sparkling snow.

A void opens up

all falls into it

until I float through darkness.

No solace.

No silence.

Only constant ringing.

Static and screaming.

Dancing to pretend there's music.

Time falls away

as life loses its gravity.

An hour and a week the same,

what is death

when life is oblivion?

Dreaming of silence,

of wintry woods welcoming

the wanderer who breathes,

who feels the cold on his skin,

instead of the numbness of the void.

There is no time

for reasonable escape,

only a thread left now:

pull myself back into the flame,

or float through the void forever.

-Zero