Call of the Void - A poem by @infinitor

Call of the Void

The icy wind howls in the streets below
'Tis nothing like death, I know.

The edge is crumbling beneath my feet,
and I have to make a decision soon.

Should I give in? Or should I go on?

As far as the eye can see,
there is only the progress of man;
so much, yet so insignificant.
So plentiful, yet so scarce.

Their chatter about power is most important to them,
yet the only thing audible to me is the call of the void.

Streets are filled with filth and deceit,
and the buildings are also no exception.
The lust for money and power haunts
men to the last dimension.

A void has been formed in the hearts of humanity,
a quest has been started, the quest for glory.

Who will succeed and who will win?
To succeed, we must first begin.

True glory cannot be attained now
it lies deep within the hearts of men.
The very hearts which have been
eroded by the lust for power and money.

The call of the void grows ever louder,
revealing to me the higher truth.

I realize that there is only one cure,
that there is no cure.

As the last ember of my hope disintegrates,
I remember our history for one last time.
And then I feel nothing. Only
the call of the void.


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