Life is a bitch, right?

Everybody dies sometimes.
Sometimes life seems never ending.
To what end do we strive to find?
Living existence like a bird before winter...fleeing.

Nothing matters but what is left in the end.
Walked on til we beg for pain just to feel.
Harmonically nature takes flight in my pen.
Memories left in those walls begin to peel.

What will become of us after this rapture?
What fate is determined in our last days?
Drowning in the sin of yesterday, angst that words fail to capture.
Glares of darkness out shines the suns rays!

Why do we live. To what extent will we be happy
Do we suffer and endure for not?
Living through empty motions, all that's within me.
I'v played the game, never broken the rules, but end up caught.