When I sing
I sing in defiance
Of the emptiness
Of the world.
I vocally disagree
With the undeniable feeling
That my existence is meaningless,
That my life is meaningless,
And I will perish, without meaning
Some later date from now.
I sing because the notes echo on
And long after I am gone
The music I give birth to will penetrate distant universes
As testament to my time here
And proof that my life,
However short,
Meant something
Even if that something
Is just the indiscernible vibration of a rock
Far, far away.

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