Life has no meaning. Human existance is just a blink in the fabric of time. Before, we used to think with certainty that we are indeed special, but as we advance, as a race, we have learned that we are actually insignificant. Eventually, and maybe soon, our whole species will become just a part of history. Some people may try and hold onto hope, but they are just holding onto a 'selfish lie', or an 'individual suggestion.' Overall, this is not a something the speaker of the poem wants to believe and feel, nor is he trying to be ignorant or malicious. This is just something that cannot be ignored and is so real and unavoidable. He wishes he could still have faith, and tried his hardest, but that is just something that cannot be faked.
Life has no meaning. Human existance is just a blink in the fabric of time. Before, we used to think with certainty that we are indeed special, but as we advance, as a race, we have learned that we are actually insignificant. Eventually, and maybe soon, our whole species will become just a part of history. Some people may try and hold onto hope, but they are just holding onto a 'selfish lie', or an 'individual suggestion.' Overall, this is not a something the speaker of the poem wants to believe and feel, nor is he trying to be ignorant or malicious. This is just something that cannot be ignored and is so real and unavoidable. He wishes he could still have faith, and tried his hardest, but that is just something that cannot be faked.