She is Waiting

Not white,
For you have no eyes to see.
Not black,
For you have no mind to comprehend.
Not the Elysian Fields, nor Peter's Gate,
For these things are Lies to comfort,
False as the shadows in Plato's cave.

The color of Nothing is Silence,
And the sound of it, a tinted window.
It will be yours forever, an eternity
Of fleeting unconsciousness and broken promises.
Unknowing in your omniscient state.

So at the last, fear is worthless,
Action a useless waste,
And words forgotten in time.
The mind fades, and the vessel becomes
But nourishment for famished carrion.

And when She is called, She will come.
And when She is called, She will come.

And She is waiting for you.