I'm in line on the runway,
Waiting to take flight.
Not sure where I'll be landing,
Or what the weather will be like.
Will I reach my destination?
Will I take off from the ground?
Will I slowly make my way,
Or will I reach the speed of sound?
Will I render to life's temptations,
Contribute to my own demise?
Will I believe all that I hear,
Or what I see with my own eyes?
And when I've reached my destination,
Shall I touch down from the skies?
Will it be all that I've envisioned,
Or will I be forced to comprise?
Should I remain above the clouds,
Bask in the suns radiant light?
Or venture further out into space,
Guided by the moon lit night?
Travel through the solar system,
Staring at the stars till I go blind?
Or burn through the earths atmosphere
Announcing I've arrived?  
Or dive into the ocean,
Getting swallowed by the tide?
Or initiate my ejector seat,
And just enjoy the ride?