Exhaustion & Kandinsky

Out upon
The killingfield,
Amongst the
Dead and their shame,
I have found
It.
That
One little loose thread
That holds your reality
Taut and
Tangible.
But oh how
My curiosity
Takes control!
And with
Writhing fingers
I tear open
The void.
Oh! from within
Roars,
The beacon,
Hurtling out,
Inhaling
Color,
And love,
And touch,
And scent,
And sound,
From every atom
Until it is bone dry.
I have no ( ).*
I no longer exist.

*Pick any noun for this space