Optimistic Nihilist

Poem # 22

The stars don’t care if we rise or fall,

no fate awaits us, no grander call.

The universe hums its indifferent tune,

yet I find solace beneath the moon.

No meaning’s carved in the endless night,

no cosmic plan, no guiding light.

Yet here I stand, with a laugh, a grin,

for nothing matters—so let life begin.

I’ll plant my seeds in this barren soil,

not for reward or celestial spoil,

but for the joy of the fleeting day,

where moments bloom, then drift away.

If life’s a joke, then I’ll play the fool,

dancing to rhythms of chaos’s rule.

The weight of meaning can’t hold me down,

I’ll wear absurdity as my crown.

For if we’re dust, then dust can sing,

of fleeting loves and the joy they bring.

If nothing lasts, then all’s a gift—

a fleeting moment, a gentle lift.

So here’s to nothing, the great abyss,

a lover’s laugh, a fleeting kiss.

The void is silent, yet I’ll insist:

Life’s worth living, I’m an optimist.