The Land of Nothing

This poem is from 2013. It would seem I'd forgotten to publish it.

I welcome you to this land of naught
This place where I am ruler and lord
Where day goes by like it was nothing
And night stands by, will leave for nothing.

Doing nothing - is pleasure, is pain
A necessity, an obligation in vain
A torment from which there is no recourse;
Time stops, as still as can be
And yet I cannot change it.

My heart, it knows, that it must wait
No longer does it know what for
Last it heard, it must wait
There's light at the end, not far.

So here I am, doing nothing
Waiting for what, I know not
Maybe idleness is an end in itself
For it can be a means to none.