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