We all sit in a library, possessed
Scanning the shelves, science,
Knowledge, politics, what book next?
We all read, like clever ones
Well educated students, learning
How to reduce the truth into Nothing.
We all sigh, with tired eyes
The experiments have all run dry,
Electrical instruments, digital; lost spirals.
We all worry, sat here, expired
On a dangerous planet, resources exhausted
Pondering, tired, whatever possible solutions.
We are all pensive, studiously lamenting
The end, or beginning, but something is missing:
Wisdom, or the desire of truly knowing
What it means to be full of an inward craving.