The Nihilist: Poetry

He told me
he worshiped Nothing,
spread his arms over 
Creation and stated:

"There is Nothing there.
Underneath is all piles of
rot and sewage,
Nothing exists.
This is truth."

Yet when I showed him
the Sunlight,
he cringed away 
and said it hurt 
his eyes to see so
much Beauty

I stared at him,
then said:

"So why do you believe 
your poor eyesight
is a reason to pretend
Love does not exist?"

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