This Condition

Back to nought, an empty barrel for a frame
an additive identity for a familar existence
drifting aimlessly in the maddening sea
on a shore that waves lonely a dance back and forth
with a disparaging sequestration, a stumbling knot of nobody
if only zero plus something equaled an upheaval  from the
nothing not, a step from annihilation, a small remedy for the forlorn past.

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