Void

Emptiness within a solid shell,
Is it heaven or is it hell?
Blackness central to the focus,
Stuck in the form of locus.
Trapped or cut off from light,
silenced to the setting of night.
No sound made to be heard,
A ear to hear would be obsurd.
Away from humanity,
No sign of technology,
Is this the end of what we should love?
Where is the colour of a dove?
We'll keep on looking through the black,
Wishing the we could go back.
It's too late to refind our feet,
or sit down in our seat.
Take the last bow of the night,
Enjoy your last word and sight.