A poem about purpose

Why? She asked.
Do I not know my task?

My task in this world,
this infinite space.

Contained in a body,
the chess piece,
the player.

Peel layer by layer
only to find
a restless mind.

Why do I live?
What brings the pleasure?
The ultimate treasure?
And how do I measure?

Against what to compare,
if here and there
are one and the same?

A zero sum game.
Not to gain things
but wings.