Empty Space

I can’t wait for Madness
To strike, for Her high
To arrive, to come and to
Embrace this vacant space
So long and so carefully
Composed.

I wait for Madness in every shape,
Shapeless whispers of Her faith
Like a doom bell keeps me awake
At night, at noon the death knell
Calls for everyone; I contemplate
My position: the bottom rhung
Reserved for the likes of me,
My kind abandoned and
Unappreciated in their world
Of forevermore Insanity.

I wait for Madness, Her mind
Like a space after a new
Line: invisible yet fulfilling a purpose
Opaque in most eyes, oblique in
Every mind. I wait – this vacant space
Becomes home – for another while.