Dark Ruminations with Caveat

If fate opposed is useless, what great need is there to challenge dark despair's great power when spirit dies, and soul, mind, body bleed, as hope wilts like a melancholic flower? When lungs give way, and breath begins to drown, should life and existence now become jointless, so glory and fame (marks of the renown that laud their pride) be futile, vain, and pointless? But sculpting songs transforms life's dreadful deluge, as odes calm a tempestuous, mental clime, like a moored buoy that delivers refuge through this apocalyptic end of time. So, brooding minds therefore must all beware, lest deep truths lead to bottomless despair!