Take heart, my protégé.
Your pain is only mine from the past,
though you make it real again
(Nietzsche was right).
Nietzsche has taught you insensitivity
and that you are a ghost.
But Einstein taught me about light
and that gravity is a coincidence.
I am here, and Nietzsche cannot undo me.
I wish that I could bring you out of the smoke,
but I have only my company and my smile,
and that seems at least to keep the light from
passing through you.
I can know nothing of the future
(of which you and I are exquisite evidence),
but I am here, and Nietzsche has, in fact,
condemned me:
To you, I am light,
and, to me, you are gravity.
Heavily inspired by the novel "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" by Milan Kundera, who took heavy inspiration from Nietzsche and others.
Minutes after I claimed Einstein's theories as poetic devices, I became quite worried at the fact that I'm not absolutely positive that I understand them fully/correctly. I'm researching the subject now, and, if I should find that my interpretation here is inaccurate, I shall make note of why, though I will likely leave the poem itself alone.