Uncertainty that runs through our blood.

Future out of our mortal hands.

How shall my life go?

It feels like we have no control.

Our blood, our sweat, our tears,

They're all a part of someone else.

A part of the person who controls our fate.

Glorious fate orchestrated by foreign hands.

If we could just take control,

If we could just steer our lives in a different direction,

But alas, we seem but marionettes in God's grand plan.

So we question,

Why them? Why me?

And wonder,

What does life even mean?

And think,

Am I even important in the grand design?

So many nights spent awake,

So many more we have planned.

Because we all want to find our place,

And hope it's important and grand.

I worry, I wonder, I fear.

What if it's my last moment here?

There are so many things to do and say.

I can't die now, not today.

But whose to say where the Lord's plans lie,

For some of us to live,

And for others to die.

We can only do our part of the grandest plan.

It makes one wonder,

How much do I even decide?

Is it all out of my hands?

Do I have a choice?

Can I trust?

Can I grow?

Can I accept?

Can I love?

Can I help?

Can I...

Can I...

What can I do?

That's the uncertainty that runs through my blood, my mind, my soul.

My mortal coil and lifelong toll.