Even nothing has a name;

The vaccum that suspends the stars

vibrates with energy too subtle to fathom,

The empty basket still holds

a number - all zero of them - 

The void in the chasm

widens and widens,

a smiling face,

wanting only to devour,

but no matter who it feeds on,

no matter who it grasps and tears away from the Earth,

I am left,

holesome and lonesome,

while the hole in my soul grows

ever larger,

every day.