"When there was light it found me and named me."
There never was a beginning. There is only necessity, which always was. In terms of this necessity, this fixed logic of being of which time is perhaps but a bastard grand-child, we are presented to ourselves as pain, pleasure, love and fear and all the limits that give shape to our "drives" which can be summarized in combination with all the driven beings around us, as the Will to Power.
The logic of being is the inevitable, and death is only a mask of it. Death is the mask of the true life.