Endgame
Life poses the question of death
A haunting omen of an eternal state
One where there is no escape
From the inevitable grasp of fate
One may question their purpose
But everyone’s is all the same
To live a life of meaningless tasks and virtues
And perish, accomplishing nothing significant
Some think we are most important
But they are indubitably wrong
We are the scum of the earth
And when we are gone it will swallow us up
Just like it has done millions of times before
When we perish
And all pieces of destiny line up in perfect unison
An act of interstellar factions
We will forever reside in the mysteries set by the universe
And finally be at peace
In the End.