Does life really have a purpose?

Space is vast, near-infinite and empty, but only so much of it can we see Stuck in a direction of time are we, and yet we claim how we came to be Welcome to space-time’s infinite array, where everything lies farther and farther away Magnificent galaxies may be big and bright, but their separation speaks stronger than their light Even the stars are not as close as it seems, mere little dots that hold distant dreams Yet even those dots can be the most violent of all, massive supernovae and gamma ray bursts leading their fall This is a Universe where the stars are born to die, some form black holes and to space-time they can lie Even the smaller stars are hostile in time, as are their planets that were once benign Space is cold, and time unforgiving, space is harsh, and with time it defies living What is then the purpose of life? Or are we just a roll of a dice? Life is purposeless and meaningless, for every sentient species is ultimately alone in the vast space-time emptiness.