There is beginning of my end again.
I follow Cynicia, my right eye.
Together we go somewhere, stumble lame
For fourteen times and do never know, why?

Nor even, why not? There's all the answers.
It is hard to return and I am soft.
My ears ring resoundingly. The rest were
Callow human creatures, these we lofted.

Eyelessly, I've discovered there's no cause.
But merely is, another five red years.
Look, profound philosophy, my meta laws
Of Cynicia who knows me and fears

Concluding couplets, now and even then
A rhyme scheme of the truth, sneeringly lends.