The isolated prison of my mind,
As all my friends and family are eschewed,
in vain attempts to sit back and unwind.
I wonder if there's meaning in our lives,
or if the struggle here is all there is.
And, though I know that none, who lives, survives,
I cannot help but wonder why that is.
I wonder if this tree will bear no fruit;
That all my pondering has been a waste;
That all man's ancient rhetoric is moot;
That as I rot, my life shall be erased.
For, if that's so, then I shall let it be,
And labor, then, to build my legacy.