The Existential Plight

“But what is the point?” The monster muttered,
As its violating gaze scrutinized its surroundings.
The tick of its claws scraping against bone,
Searching for a purpose in its last meal's remains.
“I hunt and I consume, is that all I am?”
Exhausted from wondering, it dragged itself
Out of its cavernous dwelling
To collapse beneath a moonlit night.
The creature twisted its head toward the heavens
And the stars witnessed its questions.
Above it they shone like sparks,
Once in a while one streaking down,
Trying to set fire to the sky.
From its seat on Earth the beast looked
Into the eternal reaches of the galaxies,
And saw oblivion.
“I thought so,” it sighed,
Reentering the cave as its thoughts
Drifted back toward survival, safely distant from
The plague of mortal questions.