Blank

A blank is not always empty, endearment for aye, not depict sympathy. Where a void being can still brimful, With a soul and feel in this world grimful. When the glitters in eyes is but cloak, To dreams, ruined with tick of clocks. While hands are working for hours a day, the mind; it crawls over thorns and hay. A destiny chaser with nothing in head; No maps, no ways, only zeal; it is sad.  Building castle of sands in the midst of blue, hoping the legion of grain is strong in lieu. Chosen by fate and defied by self, Hurt her muse like a little knave elf. Magic, miracle, releivo of star dust; A pearl trapped in ocean's abysmal gust. Nothing to see but a pretty simper; Her fragile noggin, a self crimper. Here you see a cold face and hatch; On a bleak canvas, A colorless sketch. The flechettes of words can never see,  Incessant agonies of urge to flee. Not every hollow is empty, it's true; Ergo her heart is an emblem of sanctity, for few.pray for all