Desire I have to be a great,
Desire, lost and won.
I have it in my heart,
For in my many lives I have seen
What treacheries come about
When it may run deep.
I know this place feels foreign,
For I am of seventeen.
I have not made a home,
And there is none to be seen.
Desire for a home arises,
And I must put it away,
For love of all things is to
The poets dismay.
We all love desire, and,
We desire to die,
For we do not know,
Or, perhaps do not have
The means to live.