"you'll just have to live"

The inconsequentialness of life
is a dooming factor, burying you beneath it
in its fathomless debris. Well-flanked,
you are unable to move: but the waking
movement of time
is unstoppable.
The question reads:
To live, would you allow another to die?
Unaffected, it defers:
To live, would you allow 10 to die:
I would.
All the better
a steeple of sin, or of bodies
and my impartiality
spanning across space—
finite as an hour passing by. I want to be immortal
or at least never die; you know, no matter the word:
always be alive.