Of this and more...

The word nothing often feels like so much,
Filled with such hopeless embrace
As our minds fall into grace
In why pure emptiness never exists
A true void will never persist
If we can give it substance with our souls instead
Making every atom our own
Belonging to our suffering
To our questions
And to our fates
Instilling regret into anything
Not covered by the Sun's morning rays
Making desolate mountains wish they crumble away
When each lonely particle in space becomes a tear
Gravity's force acting as a semblance of our longing
Drawing the world so near it tears into nothing
The same nothing that always feels like so much...