Poet's corner entry: unwritten

Inks of nothingness upon a paper,
Several minds yelled in whispers.
I was mistaken for mockery forged in absolute silence.
Never to be heard, lost to the existence called knowledge.
This ribbon is black in this darkness.
It dangles below a simple thread.
A mysterious veil is ushered into the atmosphere,
Human sight became useless, mother light just left.
And we wait unto the procurement of a pronouncement,
From the mouth of a clueless,
Our orator with spiritual blindness.
Ours is not a story,
We are ordained victims,
Preached to in sparkling lies and deceits,
The fake priests read scriptures of devilish pages,
And we listened, twitching our ears in unison.
Could lies form music?
Wondrous is that insanity,
Which our ears got webbed in.
Seeming like it's got a vibrant fantasy,
Where dreams got brimmed with reality,
Spilling a fluid of fulfilment,
That moisten the ugly faces of waiting enemies.
I seek words of wisdom,
To tell me that, which lurks beyond sight.
I fantasize colourful insights,
Realms of fairy delights,
With frenzy dusts of blazing tail lights.
Pictures that grew feet of glue,
Seek my heart to stick each foot.
Into an hole that fancy beauty.
And many a hole lay barren,
Many feet found their foundations.
Yet, a man will never revel satisfaction,
Until its path is upon the end of the road.
Always seeking supernatural,
To be a tenant in its mansion of mystery.
The universe might be vast,
With endless shine and more darkness.
Little is that known to science,
There is limit to knowledge,
Their is always that endpoint of nothingness,
Much has been written,
Yet;
much more remains unwritten.