Soot covered Bones, Twice Reflected

You hold a purpose.

You weren't made out of nothing.
Every part of your organism was designed with a goal in mind.

There were no random factors involved in your creation.
You exist for a reason.

And yet... Does it make you feel any better?

We come into this world wrapped in flesh and bones.
We come empty handed, and so we leave too.

We aren't born for a reason. Our existance is meaningless,
and in the big cycle of the world, we are nothing.

Why does anything matter, then? What are we
supposed to do within our mortality?

You cannot talk. And yet I know...

I... understand, little creature. Thank you.