Ever wonder if life is just a series of randomness.
Or is filled with preordained mile marks of destiny.
Does selflessness worth more than pleasures of selfishness?
At the end of life is there judgement of one's deeds their pitiless virulence versus their charity.
Is belief a comfort for a fool or one's greatest tool.
If life is what you make it. Then why do we bend the knee and give a nod to the tyranny of virtue when you can be the pioneers of conquest indulging scrupulously in vanity and myriads of guilty desires?
Isn't free will the gift that we was given.
If so, why do we choose to be passengers commuting by vehicles of religion and doctrine driven?
Tell me what is the purpose of life, if it's live like obedient sheep.
Maybe that's why a lion smiles at its preys in its last moments after his claws and teeth sink in flesh so deep, because that kill it's his to keep.