As I watch the world around me,
Flourishes in the one element that I have little,
I am reminded just how lonely I am,
In my fortress of philosophy.
It is strange, To experience true love,
Only in a dream at night.
A feeling only experienced once,
In over dozens years of inner ramblings.
I speak with followers and consultants regularly,
But only rarely,
A true friend.
I can endure this, as I have sworn to do,
It's worth it, in the end,
To use this life as a mere vessel,
For something truly greater, worthier, than myself.
Solitude has made me a colder man,
And even though it pains me so,
I regret it not.
I no longer see the reason,
To be nameless, with shorts and a tank top,
Standing near a nameless counterpart, with equal attire,
When I can become,
My heart's greatest desire.
Those who wish me to abandon, to leave,
Other than this -- I have little else to live.
From the birth of year to its eve,
All I desire, is to be informative.
I thus abandon one else -- the illusory sensation,
Presented to me by the subconscious,
And might as well never feel it again,
But at least I can say,
That there was little waste.
I will, therefore, embrace the cold,
And prepare myself, to be served as a feast,
Of all follower-material,
From West to East.
North and South..
A philosopher is what I am all about.
