Empty hands.

When I was young, I grasped into the darkness only to open my hands and find emptiness And over time the space devoured my mind, proliferating not to my knowing Eventually it swallowed every bit of my tolerance I had no choice but to step into the dark It was not glorious, nor was it a night mare I simply turned my back to the ground and I walked straight forward into a world that atleast did not lie I now will never be told that when I grasp into the darkness, in my hands, light, I will hold