Back when I was an art nerd I used to write poetry about Internet heroism on black metal forums.
The meaning of heroism.
Did you see the ghosts sit goggled, swathed in Nietzsche’s furied font?
Did you see the name behind, filtered through a pagan wont?
Did you hear the humming fan, and see the indent in the chair?
Did you hear the turquoise man, he dances spiral to declare:
“The lonely nothing of today,” makeup met with flowing hair.
Did you read the scalpel prose and tilt at windmills in the now?
Did you right the worldly woes, Byron-written on the brow?
Did you clutch the meaning tightly: gestured frenzy on the way?
Did you feel the ghostly leaven harden into adult clay,
And crawling back from working week, again begin the working day?
Did you breathe the common air or sitting, godfleshed, breathe you own?
Did you breathe authentically or simply gulp down what was thrown?
Did you claim it genius, and wait to press your kingly aim?
Did you leave parentheses, (for author date and author name)
And pin the brooch upon your breast, and wear the reading on your mane?
Did you pour your confidence into the mold of netted self?
Did you leak ideals from the books upon the dusty shelf?
Did you break off angst and, branding, dispose with an abstract bent?
Did you erect the fear of death and wrap it in its velvet rent,
The more successfully for typing, dripping with masculine scent?
Oh you noble ghosts who fight, ensconced upon a spider’s web
Whose febrile thrashings' happenstance is rooted deep in comfort’s ebb.
The cause! The action beckoning, nails us to the worldly thread
Yet spun itself, in webward ways, from downing of duplic'tous beds.
The spider never yet is fed, but in opposing text we’re read!
It's not very good but it still encapsulates my views on the issue.