What is our purpose?

The inexplicable urge to soar amongst the stars,
The itch to scratch and travel all the way to Mars.
The ambiguity of human spirit to be free and discover
All things new, while safely tucked under the cover
Of routine, the daily companion that blinds our very thoughts
And seeds prodigious doubts, with our minds left in knots.

How do we slip this state of equilibrium?
Freeing our minds of the last effects of Lithium?
Do we connect thought and soul and seek perfect absolution?
Or release all that binds us in a vain search for a solution?
Why are we here? What is our purpose?
Might we all be worthless on top of a tortoise?