My Interpretation Of Life Poem by Aris Williams

Why is it I consider no life precious?
We are all useless beings in an empty cosmos,
Trying to fulfill our hopeless ambitions,
Wandering through this retched life,
Repeating mundane tasks over and over,
Destroying all in our ravaging path,
Our souls diminishing with each passing minute,
Yet we care for things we know will soon disappear,
Vanishing from our mind the moment it's lost,
Acting as if we care for others we would sooner rid of,
When will the madness end?