The Overman’s Peak (Nietzscheanism)
The old gods died within the hollow sun,
The scripts are burned, the ancient altars cold;
The weary race of "herd" is nearly run,
And now a bolder story must be told.
I am the bridge across the dark abyss,
Between the beast and what is yet to come;
I find my heaven in a moment's kiss,
And beat the world upon my own heart's drum.
No law but mine shall carve the mountain side,
No "Thou Shalt" binds the lion’s golden mane;
In self-creation, I have found my pride,
And turned the joy of life against the pain.
I stand alone upon the frozen height—
The morning star that kills the lingering night.
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