How Many

How many more days of this stillness

Before the fire will blow out

A restless wind did use to stir it

But its wind-still and the silence is loud

How many more days of disorder

Of drunkenly raving around

I’ve been sleeping down here among minions

Their carelessness scattered about

Trapped in a body that doesn't act on thought

I have a sense of utopia

Of what I truly ought to do

Born onto the tide

Is it really any wonder that I’m here like this

An alliance in body and mind

Such a perfect lover I could become

How many

How many hollow declarations will follow

Lulled into a trance

I have been sitting in congress with nations

Rubbing my perspiring hands

How many attempts will it take to

Bloom in splendorous foul

Now I’m so tender and wingless

Gangling out on the prowl

How many

How many

How many

How many