There is life and there is death
No purpose needs to be made
What we do in between
Brings meaning to our existence
We grow and fade yet
Our consciousness remains forever
Constantly chipping away
At the memories we create
There is a constant gathering
Where we talk of simple plans
Debating how we can be free
To live our lives without meaning
We love ourselves enough to know
That we recycle because we can
We've grown fond of this experience
Living a dream where we wont wake up
Because the fear of living without
Purpose scares you into digging
For meaning in a situation
That thrives on the ignorance of mankind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem