In the confines of solitude,
I found myself meditating on the invisible words of silent sentient rhythms.
Thoughts from bottomless gallows of horrid rigid caves and mind tombs.
Resurrecting dormant impulses of unfeeling and unmeeting nerve endings,
With sparks like bull barks of soundless prowling hounds.
In these confines, did I realize the presence of an essence,
So buried in the depths of silence, it cannot be sensed by mere senses.
In the dark bleak of nothingness, did I find a tiny spark I never imagined was there.
So I tell you, embrace the solace in solitude,
and taste the scentless tasteless essence of its fortitude.