Musings on Nihilism

Years down the road,
None of this will matter.
Everything I do,
Everything I have done
Will turn to dust.

My greatest loads
Will long have scattered
And I will rue
Having had no fun
As I lie down and rust.

There is no secret code
To reaching eternity. Rather,
We’re all just goo:
Dying before we’ve begun,
Treading paths for which we lust.

If this is what the future bodes,
Then my dreams should shatter.
I should try something new,
Make myself second to none,
Abandon all my “musts,”

Scuff the lines I’ve toed,
Spurn the folks I’ve flattered…
I have no clue
Which way I should run
—In chance I’ll put my trust.