what is the thing i seek?

is it the bomb about to detonate
being held in so long,
so long that it will destroy
all in its path
or, for so long that it
will eventually become dormant?

perhaps it is the lone wolf
making its final cry to the
glossy shadows of the infinite full moon
wanting to be held down
sick of being free
sick of being the lone wolf

it could be the white lily
slowly swaying in the cool
yet oh so harsh summer breeze
growing, becoming beautiful
just to be picked off and ruined
the lifeless bounty of an unspared love

but then i begin to realize
through the forbidden gestures
that this was never what i truly sought
it is the plunge i have to speak of
so blissul and serene
but, i cannot

for the most sincere reprise
is not what i dream of
but what i wish you to.