Crossing the line

Written for "The Writer's Cramp"  daily prompt due August 2. Poetry, 40 lines. Prompt was to use one of several opening lines. The one I have chosen is bolded in the first stanza. All constructive criticism and encouragement are welcome.

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I was born to wonder...
When I step foot across
that line between the world seen
and the world yet unseen,
With all these questions
and endless debates
between lovers and friends
regarding when life begins,
how often have I considered
when--definitively--does life end?

I was born to wander...
Through patches of darkness
between glimmers of light,
hidden from the world,
With ever an instinctive
knowledge to run, to fly,
to seek out crevices in which to hide
yet to find only great expansive voids,
never knowing for certain
just when will I be allowed to land?

I was born to hunger...
When I consider what I lost
and what I had yet to gain
from the emptiness within,
With only a jaded remembrance
of what it meant to be full,
to be wholly satisfied,
exuberant in satiation,
with knowledge of nothingness,
will I ever find contentment again?

I was murdered to malinger...
With grayed memories of life, joy,
moments of effervescent happiness
mixed with the agony of regret,
With reverberating recollections
of one single moment,
a snapshot in time of the transition
from the world of the seen
to the world of the unseen,
what good then is it to wonder?