The Human form means nothing. It will one day be dust like
everything else. Personality, conflict, none stay with white
bones. Bones of everything that was.

“Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.” - Hamlet

Alone by yourself, no future, no prospect of being
remembered at all.

The cliffs and the seas, the sky and the trees, are tombs for
nothing but earth and soot. Centuries pass after your death
and still no pearly gates or hellfires. Your children grow
old, they suffer, they die. They forget your name, they forget
you existed.

Billions of years in the blink of an eye and nobody and
nothing is left to understand. Stardust was humans,
Humans were stardust, Everything else is Silence.