Nothing

Of any other night I could have chosen.
Thinking of a thousand other places I could have been,
In this place where no other human would be seen
There stood I that night, gazing at that house, embraced by fear and coldness.

I picked up my step, and towards the wooden doors I went.
While, amidst the cold and the sweeping leaves,
A sense like dread came and went sounding like a hiss.
While with one hand I held my bag, and with the other my empty chest

I finally came upon the wooden doors,
opened them, and fled from unlit skies.
Then towards a deeper darkness I brought my eyes
as if being moved by an unseen force

There was nothing resembling dear life
Nor anything that this emptiness could delude;
this overwhelming nothing had my senses in strife

Yet I knew it was a troubled voice that brought this inquietude
This shapeless chant that in my ears cried…

It was the unspoken whisper from the ghost of solitude