Cynicism

The beauty of cynicism
an indulgence in the art
Once, great Cynics of old
steeled their weary hearts

But people corrupt.
Or is that cynical to say?

All the same, it’s true enough
that we have this tendency
to turn what we touch to decay

We sow it
like seeds in the dirt
And douse it
with splashes from our cynical hearts

But there is beauty in nothing
This, I know to be true
In the spaces between the gaps,
between the gaps between the things,
You will find something…
You will find Nothing
There is peace in that too.

We struggle
against a cynical world
But we are free to struggle
and that is something special

Push, push, push
Only to fall back down

but

Should it all end
in naught but decay,

if the fires burn it all away,

and the Frost Giants pave their way,

Even if
we all go back
to where we started

It doesn’t matter anyway.

At the serpent’s head, I’ll wait for you
Until the End of Days.
I hope you come – find me there
I’ll take your cynicism away