by Nick Gisburne
Nothing in those vacant, empty eyes
Signals more than senses simply numb.
What she was, perhaps, is no surprise.
Colder is the curse she will become.
Even as her perfect powers wake,
Something is impossible to see.
Miracles, too beautiful to break,
Hide the face of what should never be.
Bitter, boiling ice and burning rain.
Seamless, blazing blackness, darkest light.
She is every particle of pain
Filling every nightmare, every night.
Soon she will discover what is true.
She was never nothing. That was you.
