Sallow Eyes

Fey is used the scottish vernacular, meaning doomed to die

I feel at odds with my writing

Taken to calling it my other self

In truth, I'm not a close minded hermit

The solaris prophet,

preaching the woes and destruction of man

That's the business of the other one

I wouldn't really call myself a poet in that sense

Too many singular thoughts for that

Matters not

The disconnect from the Friedrich writer

and the fey outline surrounding it

It just seems irksome

When my words are such a distance from my thoughts

I believe in the spirit of man

I believe in us yet

That we are not some doomed, wretched souls

But yet here I stand

The decrypted doomsayer

With his bones sucked dry of their marrows

Wallowing in his own sense of futility

The reckoning he preaches so much about

Swallowing him first 

But yet I feel some amount of congratulation for this position I outtake

I really liked the imagery of death and suffering,

Here's my intrepid summary of your psyche 

Your entire presented soul, a therapy session done in key theme phrases

I also really liked your fence building nihilism that you presented,

Great piece, keep it up!

While I believe a grim poem is needed now and again,

A report only a poet can provide

But it never be an anthem

A cry to rally under a bleak, simple nihilistic rule

Even our aforementioned Friedrich,

Was not a true nihilist, he found his hope

And so it must be that I will seek mine

Cull the rampart hellscape I'm so found of using

The abominations that keep my chilled existence company

For hopefully, with time and patience

I change someone for the better

I should have no reason to believe I should believe in this time

Carrying on with my decrypted skeletons

But I'll make their bones coral

And make them adorn the world in their floral

So I should, one such as my quarrel