Mute

In the mute darkness,
We find nothing, not even shadows.
Yet, there is something beautiful about the absence of light.
Perhaps, it is the rawness of an unobscured setting,
One that drains the light from your pupils—
One that takes your hand and guides you into the black hole.
No star could illuminate this stillness of the dark—
That mummifies lost artifacts to the inertia of space.