Is this all a means to an end?
Unlikely does an end exist without means
For what is done for no reason?
We breach the skies and grasp the sun
So why do our wings not melt?
In such, each person must have purpose
Will I know when I’ve fulfilled mine?
All I can leave are my fading thoughts
One day to be understood?
Born not to become a legacy
But to serve as a means
For others to understand the beauty
I hope to find in the end