I wanted something

 Something I wished to write—

a drop of wisdom's light,

a shared and common sorrow,

signed with tears I'll borrow.

Something I thought to touch,

a feeling delicate, as such,

but before the thought could grow,

the scent of struggle I would know.

Something I longed to say—

a colossal, boundless way,

but in cold irony's command,

I’ll be enslaved, purely unmanned.

Something slipped into my mind,

like a multicolored, frantic kind,

a god-like sin, divinely designed,

but even that was left behind.

Somehow I wanted to live,

as a child, small and sensitive,

I dared to dream a dream so vast,

but took it back as though it passed—

and held it like a die once cast.