All your blessings
they torment me
I hate this
twisted thing
called fate
All this desire
for creation
without the power
to create
If I could have been a singer
If I only had the voice
I'd find my sense of worth
in a melody
If I only had the choice
When I walk
through halls
of painted beauty
There's a thing I cannot stand
I would add to those
glorious galleries
If I had a crafty hand
But what's free will
without
ability
It feels much more like a lie
How do I fulfill
the yearning inside of me
A flightless bird
dreamin' to fly