God will shake my hand

On a deserted island, here I am
Doomed to die, in the sand
I won't bring any tears to let cry
Or something to hold, like someone's hand.

There's only one thing I can take, an ideal
that Nietzche spoke of, and it is that
the Superman is real and he is within me
for Man is to be overcome, and this island.

This island will not best me,
this hardship is no different from anything
else around me or anyone.
If there is no God here, then it is I.

Being completely isolated and alone
will destroy any man
but not the Superman, for he is better
than Man.

And I will be better than Man
and when I die here, in the sand, 
God will come to me
and extend his hand.
 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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