Nil

Raging torrents of nil and painless agony.
Loss is a loss of the soul.
Casket of hate, love and life.
Buried deep in the vacuum of the everlasting nothing.
Love of hate is the anger incarnate.
Hate to love is the remains of betrayal.
But hate and love together neutralises.
The great nil.
The almighty zero.
Emotions of flaming red, white and black washed by an eternal gray.
No love.
No hate.
Nil.
Content born from hate born from love.
My love was my cancer.
My hate was my cure.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder they say.
But what of the beholder is blind.
Unfit to see the cancer grow, dominate, steal his humanity.
Unable to know his soul is being dissipated by living demons of flesh.
Depression, desperation, loneliness was the fallout.
Yet they cleared like fog on the wind.
All is destroyed.
All is left dead.
The angels of love.
The demons of hate.
They fought and eradicated themselves.
I tried.
Ignorance and greed won the rights.
The war of emotions, of angels, of demons, of soul ravaged the mind.
I can't feel.