Pig the Nihilist

Pig would travel to the hilltops,
Oh, and he would sit looking down,
He pondered the boundaries of life, sky.
He wanted to know why he couldn’t fly.

Of course, the answer came to him.
Like some dead goddess the world answered.
She told him that he was vain.
The pig had spent too much time on hilltops.

Looking down, he always was looking down.
He had thought himself smarter, he had changed.
Nihilism had become his mistress,
Absurdist pig, how could you do that?

Narcissism was his speech,
He had been on hilltops far too long.
Solitude had made him a lunatic,
For lunatics come in ones.

Poor pig, why did you have to think?
If only you had stayed level with your kind.
Now you are a monster, a rooted statue.
You can never be moved, by anything.

Your nose smells clouds.
Your hooves stand upon,
The bodies of your kind.
Your mind is not of this world.

Simple pig, floating in a universe,
All your own, ideas and illusions,
You said you could fly,
Now you are, only lunatics dare fly.

Come back down, come back,
The end is not everywhere,
Stop chasing ghosts, taste life,
It is before you pig, take it, truth exists.

Poor pig traveled to hilltops,
He would sit and ponder this world of lies,
Ponder his death, all ends, fire.
Now he has been stolen from us.

Pig is a nihilist. The end end end end end end end end end end end end.