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.