I am everything and I am nothing.
A creeping shadow in the black, abyss-like corners of life.
To gaze upon my cloaked, physical form,
That of which was comprised from a stereotype and guesswork,
Would be to take in the embodiment of pain;
The embodiment of suffering.
And yet, this objectified form is deceiving;
For what purpose would the harvester of life,
Have for perceiving its value?