Better to Be

Born of a vacuum
Encapsulated by sound,
Coiled springs ready
To bolt, to run, to fight.
Lightest touch able to
Devastate with its fragility.
Too numb to care,
Lay the soul bare.
Countless sightless stares
Pile up, a cacophany of
Mounting horror and fear
As Death draws near,
Pulling all into her
Inevitable embrace.
But the mortal coil
Shivers and quakes,
Unable to comprehend
Silence's truths,
The beauty of nothing
And peace found in
Emptiness.

For to be blank
Is unusual.
Most consider it better
To be filled, fat with
Heavy weighted words,
Ideals and beliefs able
To drown those who carry them.

But it is better to be the blank page.
It has so many possibilities.