Empty Poem by Sparsh Jain

Empty is beautiful or Void attracts beauty?
Spiraling, wanting in my life.
Thoughts and perception productions are abstract,
They never answer in singularity.
Its always like an in-definitive transitive relation.
Of hope and nothingness.

Make me Empty?
I am already Empty, or am I filled with?
With black froth or dark matter?
With something stale or something valuable?

No words to define this head.
Where nothing is understood, just vision.
Loose neuron packing, tight bound headaches.
A compassionate artist but with zero heed.

Seeking beauty and attention, but would you?
Half the time your brain speaks in 3rd person;
And the other half, you are dead.