Pascal had his Void that went with him day and night. <br />- Alas! It’s all Abyss, - action, longing, dream, <br />the Word! And I feel Panic’s storm-wind stream <br />through my hair, and make it stand upright. <br />Above, below, around, the desert, the deep, <br />the silence, the fearful compelling spaces... <br />With his knowing hand, in my dark, God traces <br />a multi-formed nightmare without release. <br />I fear sleep as one fears a deep hole, <br />full of vague terror. Where to, who knows? <br />I see only infinity at every window, <br />and my spirit haunted by vertigo’s stress <br />envies the stillness of Nothingness. <br />- Ah! Never to escape from Being and Number!<br /><br />Charles Baudelaire<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-void-20/
