Never is 
it nothing. 
 
                  Emptiness 
        takes on a shape. 
 
Malignant depth 
bereft of benevolence, 
 
                 sensuously  
                  insensitive, 
 
it fills the space 
it is allowed. 
 
                    A void. 
                  A voice, 
 
as easily 
as it is given, 
 
                      it can be  
                  taken away. 
 
Within its ambiguity 
there may be hope. 

04/08/2021                                     j.g.l.