what repeats itself in life

what repeats itself in life is a placeholder
devoid of events, of anything significant
ruining the virtue of sense
corroding images of us
in the looking glass
in which we all exist;
embellishing the void with the futile.
And how many senses of pertaining,
the nonsense senses of the being,
your majesty, you have in life?
I was a butterfly, this was
much better than the current
void, and the events were brighter and —
at least in terms of frequency of waves —
they semt familiar to me. Unlike
the current voidness of void
and enmity of darkness.
They were
at least
familiar.

I guess you know such a feeling from the childhood,
schoolteacher’s asking for the right
i.e. correct — an answer. And you’re unable
to respond cause you’re a little dagonfly
buzzing in the bounty of the existence

and voidness of the void was in that buzz,
but you did not acqnowledge as a schoolkid,
that it will reach you in your thirties,
the buzzing voidness of the world.
the dazzling sorrownes of being.