{NaPoWriMo 2017 ~ Day 12}
If I could know a hundred million things,
I don't know if this craving would abate;
or even if an end to these stirrings
can truly come... Can I myself satiate
this cursèd cluelessness? Or am I, now
and always, doomed—wisdom's prison's inmate—
to only, always humble, lowly bow
and, seeking, pray to some enlightened mind
and hope that I can grasp some knowledge? How
am I to keep from staying dully blind?
Or am I to be with this void aligned?