Living to die

Living to die. That is our purpose in life. Merely a speck of dust on the Timeline. Our world, our beautiful world, like a havenly slaughterhouse. Each of us, after a long yet surprisingly short life, pulled by Death as we grasp on to our remaining breaths. Yet, no one can save you as you're driven down the tunnel of light. It's worse for me. A mere copy of another, uncared for like rats in the sewers. No personality, no voice, no emblem, no beliefs, no friends or family, just the timer towards a cruel death in the slaughterhouse called home.