Black and white,
just two colours,
no neutral land
no ephemeral shades
that come and go
once in fashion,
then no longer new.
through it all
for years and years
these two colours
are all that remain
undefeated, immemorial.
stripped bare of illusions
down to the naked truth
of the world
and the world's history
and its ghosts too.
the essence of truth
in absolution
in black and white
will set you free
or draw you in
to its simplicity
where does shade
become a shadow
where does the shadow
become darkness
the depth of eternity
confronts you
as you get pulled
into a black hole
a deep tunnel
of uncertainty
or one that's headed
towards light.
after all
that's what it means-
black and white.

A blank page. No emotions, no joy
no gleam of hope, no desperate prayers, 
no devastation, just frustration...
nothing ever fills my mind.
No dreams, no insomnia,
just plain old sleep 
to bide my time.
Surrealty, but no wonder,
no spark in my eyes
no words to speak
no love to share
no care to spare to a next of kin.
Emptiness the only thing
within me, around me, ahead of me, it is me.
All character, all life
has seeped away, 
I cannot act, I feel no pulse, 
my muscles have turned numb.
I lie awake, a blank ceiling 
is all I see, everywhere...
No drive, no motivation.
No inspiration, nothing new,
not even something old,
to spark a train
of comforting nostalgia.
My heart feels cold, my eyes, they bore
I watch people move
like lifeless souls..
all parallel lines, no tangents daring,
no haywire lives, no curves of learning.
The only change I sense,
gradual as it may be,
is my empty life turning
into a flatline.
And my being, another blank page
loose on the floor
no breeze to lift it
nothing to transcend it.