Philosophical

Before I was born 
I floated 
bathed in 
serene amniotic 
nothingness, 
no joy or despair, 
no love or hate, 
just sweet oblivious 
nothingness, 
feeling, seeing, hearing, 
remembering nothing. 
Since then 
I have tried to 
delude myself 
that my time here 
has not been merely 
a microscopic speck 
in the cosmos, 
an exercise 
in nothingness. 
So what 
should I fear 
in the face of 
the next nothingness 
circling ever closer 
to the ebbing embers 
of my campfire 
like a pack of 
hungry wolves, 
when I’ve been 
akin to it 
for so long?

Nothingness