NEOPAGANISM
I don’t do this for you, for really anyone
A self-consolatory act, as if there’s any other kind
Goes the cynicism, and such desultory gibbering
Is the new fuel du jour, with no alternates
And I have no outfit changes, this is not
A roleplaying game, more of a solitaire
More of a trek across the highland, branches in tow
But no matches, this ceremony has no burning
Only muted recognition
I don’t do this for you, for really anyone
Forgotten half the steps, but what’s unfinished
Can be powered through faith, just not in myself
Maybe in the islands off the coast
With craggy cliffs I could climb but never will
The devotion to an avoided timeline
Is all anything is, goes the cynicism
If there’s a derelict out there, it’s invisible
No witnesses
Not even I, in my own way
Sights blind with fog
We stumble at only shades, goes the cynicism
The relent of worry is
Marrying a shadow, but
He’s a bad lover, and
I always make my tent and don’t see why
I have to make yours