Once I looked deep into his eyes. Blood shot, from days of pondering over nothing, till nothingness grew into something. Something that soon turned out to be nothing. I looked deep into those voids of despair and I found something, even though there was the assumption of nothingness behind them. He cried for help to let him on to the secret that he thought was nothing, but I could not tell him because he was not yet ready to listen. His mind tried to invade my senses, tried to pull the fragile threat that connects all our kind. But all in vain as it was too hard for him to take it and too easy for me to distract him. The gaze then went silent, after sadness conquered and tears fell, I cried a bit too, out of perplexed anxiety. His eyes grew angry than, eyebrows menacing to behold. Nostrils fuming old age fury, steam shooting off from all pours. He grew angry and I grew timid in his presence, but still held on. And from the anger, fire breathing, heart quenching anger came violence and he smashed the tainted mirror. That was the last I saw of him and he of me. Never will he know how his nothingness will fill the somethingness of the world, some dreadful day.