The emptiness of space is all about nothing,
or nothing from some thing must be something.
Beyond our limited senses and so much more,
faith, believe and fanatic perceptions to adore.
Scientific conspiracies and mythological fact,
gracious impressions upon to act.
All ‘if ‘stories by purpose solution defined,
contemporary art in holy loops refined.
The promised creature with its wings,
is the wind needed to rise, with little stings.
The harp of creed played in monotone,
nothing is more irrelevant to get the dire loan.
Empty houses so expensive to touch,
filled spaces advertised meaning nothing much.
So many zeros exchanging the stock marked,
nothing but hot air for a handicapped target.
All for nothing to proof in all might the subtle lie,
impressions are worth for nothing to die.
Nothing at all is the space between the ears,
if one cannot see that beauty is the truth, made of tears.
From nothing more to nothing at all,
the divine grace by eternity, nothing to befall.