The plight of the nihilists are such;

There is no such thing as truth.

To express infinite doubt is a must.

And morality is nothing more than a ruse.

All who appeal to any form of authority

Insist upon their subjects abject servitude

Not because of any competence hierarchy,

But purely for a sadistic desire to feel amused.

To the cretin who reject the very concept of truth and universality,

And yet curse constantly about those upon whom they subsist,

How do you know that your very own grievances are not also blasphemy?

Can your claim to nothingness and self-righteousness possibly coexist?

You writhe all around and whisper in our ears that the miseries

Endured all our years are not done so out of natural necessity,

But only due to the invisible laws and social contracts we implicitly decree.

You worms burrowed in filth claim to see for those who suffer from cecity.

You say that we could all be free if it weren’t for legislative arbiters

And the financial cartographers who invent both debts and decrees.

While this may be a legitimate grievance, one unlike the rest of your others,

No solution is proposed but that by their absolution we’ll be bereaved.

Unraveling the rhythm of modern society does not an artist make.

Your incessant heckling merely disrupts the sublime unconscious hoi polloi.

It makes the unknowing audience anxious and rustles them just partially awake.

Contented strife is ravaged and the meek become both disturbed and paranoid.

What requires less will than the submission to the plights of daily life?

All you do is bellow and bemoan, robbing us proud mortals of peace in our homes?

The inevitable decrepitude and termination of what for we choose to strive

Is all the more reason to reject an existence within your ghastly anti-factual catacombs.

29 April 2019