Here I stand
At the end of the world
Waiting for the final bell to toll.
I do not see the man hiding beneath the façade
I do not growl for the loss of an era bygone
I do not excavate another passé idea
Of love and heartbreak, of self, of nature
And everything eternal.
I will take the hemlock on offer
But I will not go on a rant
I pledge not to make a sound anymore
And I will close my eyes,
Slowly as if not to create a ripple
Though the ether.
Nothingness is the only Constance
Everything else is but a surreal reverie
Waiting to be wished away.