everything to nothing

Water flowing from an unseen source pools on the dank floor, momentarily emblazoned in harsh halogen light as an overhead bulb's dwindles like final drawn-out heartbeats - irregularly slowing to a stop. A harsh wind gushing all around suddenly everything is still like, the last ray of a setting sun, like a last shaky breath stolen before being released through ancient lips into stale air, and then darkness.

A 'life', made to be obsolete - like all life - reaches the end of its use, and no creature around it bats an eyelid other than upright hairs on the back of a morose looking cat which slinks away into its once-lit surrounding without so much as a rustle or a hiss. So if this object was not and then was and then was not again, then tell me, please, what was it for?

Its purpose of illumination was taken for granted by tiny insects which were chemically drawn to its purity. But pure it is not, for while it carried out its duty night and day, it was moulded and shaped; fit to the specifications of its creator. And so its purity cannot exceed the creator's idea of purity.

The creatures that basked in its purpose did not have needs or wants that exceeded its use and so they unconsciously stayed, leeching from their natural inclinations. Only to unthinkingly desert what they once endeared the moment they can no longer survive in the darkness, where illumination once was.

After all, simple creatures cannot entertain their imaginations for long - imagery still emblazoned on their swollen retinas left behind by the recent withdrawal from what is and was, will not fool them for long before their senses overcome their temporarily disillusioned minds and guide them onward to their next beacon of life.

With nothing but splotchy, vague and fading patterns of purity within them to remind them of what once was, that is now no more. Only a faint glint in the far distance, which i guess is what they know as, and what we call, hope...