In the quiet hours of dawn
when the world is wrapped in shadows and silence
I sit and ponder the fragments of my soul
scattered like stars in the vast expanse of night

I find that a part of me is empty
and I wait in hope that someone will come along
whose emptiness does not intersect with mine
and so together we may become whole.

And each time I draw a breath,
I am careful not to fill the void's lungs,
lest it feed the void's heart
and circulate through the void's body,
expanding the hollow ache within.

But perhaps, in this waiting,
the emptiness will only grow,
and the silence will deepen,
until it becomes a part of me.

I fear that in the end,
I will remain alone,
a void within a void,
lost in the vastness,
with nothing but echoes to keep me company.