What is the meaning of life?
Why do we try so hard when, after all, we are still specks of cosmic dust?
All these end when we draw our final breath, so why
Do we live?
When after all we have created our own environment
Outlived our purpose of survival
Disregarded the animal instinct
Cramped ourselves into those small office cubicles in the concrete jungle
When on the other end of the globe, they have barely any life in them
For whom does the bell tolls?