We spent tears
on stars
and nothing
we called on oracles
for hours
and nothing
we contemplated
the naked ceilings
and nothing
we wore ourselves
out on our sleeves
and nothing
we let the day
intrude upon us
and nothing
we thrash in sheets
with no light available
and nothing
we made an itinerary
of our motives
and nothing
we listened to
our echoes serenade us
and nothing
we wandered wild
with wanton wonder
and nothing
we loved
for a while
and nothing
we exchanged
our lies for truth
and nothing
we awoke to
the possibility of dreams
and nothing
we knew
the consequences
and nothing
after all
that we are only now beginning
to appreciate the end
it's nothing
to be afraid of
nothing at all
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