The subjugated soul scorned the flesh
And cruelty was her only lust
She would have it meager, ghastly, starved
Watching in disgust
Deniers of strife
Despisers of life
Blink
Wretchedly content
Enter the great contempt...
Your inheritance is filth and poverty
Decaying slaves earn my wrath
In the great hour of contempt
Poison mixers, I let them go
To honour the entrails of the unknowable
For I finally remembered
the meaning of earth
The time of rebirth
Begins with the choice to go under
Your barren austerity cries
To a desolate sky
He is the frenzy, he is the lightning
Let him recreate you
Let him initiate you
Your great contempt can go under
Becoming human again...
In your longing, speak the vow
Not to seek behind the stars
Affirming that the world is ours
Strengthen the future, deliver the past
Drown in the present, spake the outcast
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Author:
erendis (
Offline) - Published: July 3rd, 2025 03:04
- Comment from author about the poem: Another one inspired by Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Nietzsche has such acerbic wit, and steamrolls over pretense so elegantly. I hope to have captured how he might see the soulless people of the world today, believing themselves content, but who live in constant distraction, to their own decay.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 2
Offline)
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