Contemplating Nietzsche
I from the shell game turned away
For if I did not
I should follow the mad man into decay
Should my hands dripping red
With the guilt of sunset for the day
Or sunrise for the night
And come to the swaddling sea
And find
No ablution
For self growing from its husk
In all the manure I have created
I understood
How simple paradigm like a cross
Could challenge us
Challenge our worthiness of atonement
Did they lie
Or did he really
It is so upsetting to know the mad man's logic
How can God
Ever die
And what would be this existence then
I am not talking about my values
Rooted up
Like a fog and evaporated
Nihilism questions not only the truth of our dream
But the dream of our truth
And leave us with a silver-less rope
So kicked the shell against the sand
And left it there to become
Something in a rich child's bucket at play
Something to build our castles
Until the waves level the sands again
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