a poem about human suffering

"The Suffering Are Both Pointless and Destined"

I found this sentence in my notebook; I don't know if I wrote it or if it's from a book.

I asked ChatGPT to write a poem about it; I think it did a good job - it felt like something out of Camus:

We are born into the wound,
not by choice, not by fault,
but by rhythm —
a drumbeat we never set,
only march to.

Pain arrives uninvited,
but stays like a god —
demanding reverence,
offering nothing.

We search for purpose
in the ashes of meaning,
but the fire never cared.

So we carry the weight,
not because it leads somewhere,
but because it’s ours.