A Singularity

There wasn’t anything to see in this vast playground

a slice of contempt and a large egotistical harangue,

but nothing to see.

I squinted intently wishing so much to see something

but only grey invaded my eyes.

Can there be an explanation for this,

some kind of reason for this bland landscape?

I searched around frantically, there must be something to see

there must, but no only the unkempt aftermath

of dead dreams and disappointments

lonely rejections and sleeping emotions.

I began to run there must be something ahead

but I ran till I could run no more

there was not a thing to see.

Falling to my knees I stared at my open hands

and saw the callouses and worn skin

of a life of labor and poor decisions

and said well at least I can see that.

The grey loomed around me

a quiet watchful nothingness

it would not speak it would not change

it surrounded me with quiet pity

the depth of the grey seemed endless

an eternal nothing just nothing to see.

A voice inside my head pretending to be a thought said

add color.

So I threw out a vivid crimson red

I vomited cobalt blue

and smeared sunflower yellow across the cold grey

I pissed purple and green fountains

I tore away the grey with orange and magenta

and there was so much to see

that I almost fainted with the power of it all.

Then the voice inside my head that pretended to be a thought said

ENTER THE CREATOR.

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