Villian's void

I grip tight to what I desperately need. I feel nothing in my fingers. The lack of mass is painfully haunting. It opens up a chasm of emptiness that can only be quenched with meaningful substance. Yearning for what I hold not, my reach feels too limited to gather necessities. The life I live provides plenty and yet I am still lacking. The only alternative are to look deeper and try harder or seek somewhere else. The answer is obvious. It betrays me in its solutions. I have come so close I can barely fail to grasp it. Reach again. Hold tight. Desperation permits.

Yet, this is not me.