What lies beyond life
is death.
Yet the depth of this certainty
is quietly ignored.
What defies inevitable decay
is the yearning to be immortal—
through writing,
through creating wealth,
through procreation,
through leaving something
of ourselves.
But why at all?
If everyone dies,
then what remains
of all we build,
all we create,
all we accomplish?
Perhaps life lies
somewhere between
the utility of living
and the futility of being
a façade of meaning
we build against
the certainty of nothingness.
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