Thirsty I still am

knowledge, thirsty

Thirsty I have become, all my very senses
yearn to touch the naked body of my dreams

And take a trip down the cerebral zone
An intellectual stimulant I desparately seek...

That drug is knowledge. But what is it?
Is it in thought or in words?

I want my soul to spring up and meander towards
that very treasure of infinite depths

There are no scales, there are no gadgets,
Nor can knowledge be measured on staffs and lines

For it is a self, a sea boundless and measureless
Knowledge does not walk upon a line,

Neither does it grow like a weed.
It is something that unfolds itself

Like a flower of countless petals
Presenting itself, available for all

Yet elusive to those who don't wish to see
Or experience its sheer power

There is enough to quench and conquer...
But thirsty I still am...