James Mullaney - Desert Landscape

I am empty; I am nothing.
There is no source of ME.
A hollow shell, a massless gust,
Where a person used to be.
I have no thought that's real
Nor passion uncontrived
I cannot hope or reason
Or prove that I have lived.
I cling to no convictions
I strive for no reward
I merely receive impressions
From the dismal mise-en-scene.
I seek immediate pleasures
That leave me flat and dry;
I dream about tomorrow:
A dreary wash of gray.
I live for no good reason
I write to pass the time
I hate waking up in the morning
And I hate falling asleep at night.
I'm on the verge of something,
Something, something...something odd;
I'm not sure yet just what it is -
Insanity - or God.

James Mullaney

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/desert-landscape/