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I once read that

Virtue was immortal

And wondered whether,

By consequence, deeds of evil

Were likewise everlasting

And so I became a cynic

And distant from my fellow

Adamant in my morality

But aimless in my customs

From node to dim node;

Path after smouldering path

Purgatory's pilgrim

I wandered into the temple garden

And saw forward and back through time:

The coming of entropy

Leaden skies scud swiftly

False spring

The blossoms wither

A blunder unto death

Yet, artistic triumph:

The coexistence of

Righteous anger

And total equanimity

You accuse me of obtuse indeterminacy

And credit yourself with plain speech

Whereas in reality you have overlooked

Myriad subtle distinctions of import

Immortal stone faces

But now cracked

Moss grows from eyelids

Like blinding disease