'Empty' and 'The Ink Well'

[feveredpoet]

(I've grouped these two together because they were both inspired over a cup of coffee)

Empty

I look at the bottom of an empty mug,
Wondering where all the coffee went;
Much like a night spent in dreamless sleep.


The Ink Well

I look into the deep,
At long, overcome by
So clear a darkness,
Enough to wonder,
How can something so dark
Reflect so well?
Upon the surface
What light absorbed is me,
In essence, and of will, inborn,
In hopes to find
Something, anything, substantial,
And, for what solace,
All persuasions help,
When sinking deeper into
So dark a well.



(fevered)