The Absurd Hero(Existentialism)
Only to tumble to the plain once more.
No divine hand provides a final rest,
No hidden meaning waits behind the door.
The stars are silent to our frantic "Why?"
The universe is cold and unconcerned;
Beneath a vast and empty, velvet sky,
The lessons of the ancient gods are burned.
Yet in the struggle, man creates his soul,
Defiant joy within the heavy task;
To own the climb is to achieve the goal,
To strip the silent heavens of their mask.
Though nothing matters in the cosmic scheme,
We wake ourselves and author our own dream.
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