They're gods who lost worshipers.
They evanesced, gradually, with the zephyr
Or metamorphosed into average beings--
Humans, almost, like everyone else.
Yet, there's something that remains--
Something that points out a palpable anomaly.
See, when you look at them,
You could detect an ephemeral iridescence;
It clings to their edges,
Like a pulsing aura or a silver lining.
They roam our realm, unobstrusively--
Adapting our norms, effortlessly.
Sometimes, we perceive fleeting traces
Of divinity in those we meet;
But, alas! We're, now, too cynical
To further investigate--or to even believe.

-

She yearned
for a mate
who could penetrate
her soul.
A physical touch
is all she got.
Now she lies,
impregnated
with cynicism.

-

Do cynics love?
Or do they cease to be
cynics the moment they see
dreams, with another,
of warmth and affection?
Or do they retain their sanity
and refuse to believe in humanity
although a human
gave them hope?
Perhaps, they kill the hope
lest it grows and spawns
more dreams that will dawn
upon them on the most of impracticable
of nights.
Perhaps, they run lest they cease to be
the cynics that they've grown to see
themselves as.
Their cynicism is immortal
and its shield makes them immortal.
Unless, one, in love, melts that shield
and no longer wields
the strong nonchalance
that gives cynics a survival advantage.
Perhaps, the one
who did not run
needed to the most
and sooner.

-

A letter to the
teacher who
taught me
cynicism

-

When your feelings are hurt,
And expectations are broken,
Then a Cynic takes birth in yourself,
And the memories of the past leave you Dewy-Eyed !!

(Dewy-eyed Cynic ✍)

-

Oh! These sophisticated pretensions!

Will these never end?

O, these heartfelt presumptions!

Will they ever stop?

-

Life is too short to pfft—
go use this words in front of
mother of a stillborn.

Life is too short to—
think about someone else.
Save yourself before,
you say, you care.

Life is too short to,
think about anybody else;
you are too addicted
and I don't care.

Life is too short to
write a poem,
you won't be reading if,
I write one more line.

-

To Inspiration

-

Some heads can paddle their own canoe others are in need of shoulders.

-

#DedicatedLearning 3


A "CYNIC" is a man who knows the price of "EVERYTHING" but the value of "NOTHING"

~Oscar Wilde

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