No Signs Of Wisdom

Bode the wind, abide the rain
Too uch I demand for myself
Feel the unborn, foresee the dead
It's a desperate secret, I can't hide from myself

I feel no signs of the wisdom
I see no marks of the god
I smell no perfume of angel

Peruse the marks, construe the signs
Reckon the books, no sleep for me
No give up, must get more
To many things to comprehend

I take care of myself and feed my bleeding heart
I will light up the dark and heal my bleeding heart