I wrote: Being Meaning

I wrote a poem the other day. I'm usually not big into poetry, but for some reason, this seemed to fit a need of mine. It is titled Being Meaning.

The universe is cold
unfeeling
A void devoid of meaning
It is thoughtless chaos
Raging about us as we hold on to something
This brings me
comfort
Because my charge is now to do my part
to bring meaning
Love 
Order
to this existence 

Thirty-one Days of Lovecraft: Day Nine

I did a lot of reading to get back on track and learned that Lovecraft did NOT like New York. Like, at all. He did like twisted tales of horror though, so perchance it evens out? Read on for some Lovecraft analysis and a poem of my own!