The Genie...

He feels like he's been trapped his whole life

Kept cramped and cloistered in isolation

bottled up, and bottled up inside

His only escape or exodus

has been those summonings

where he's made to manifest another's wishes

to deliver the dreams of others unto them

Sometimes their dreams leave him to wonder

why he can never live his own lonely dreams

or breathe inspired breath beyond his bottle

What if he could grant his own wild wishes

and fill the world with worthy wonders

Given the glut of all he's already granted

-all the other ambitions attained through his action

He imagines all the awe he could awaken

and give to greater minds

to be made greater in the awe they'd ponder

Then. What dreams they'd have for him to serve!

But The Genie knows his magic's not like that

He knows the world inside his bottle

will never find a world to serve outside it

And he knows the wishes he will grant

will only cast him back and bottled up again

He knows this cycle is in fact eternal

So he dreams of staying in his lamp

to shine his light unto itself

But there's always another grubby hand

with worthless wishes to summon back his soul

and the more of these dreams he serves

and the more of a nightmare this unleashes

the more he finds the wishful's final yearnings

turning all his dreams to that one dark whish

that would serve the words that all the wishful 

always end up praying for him to grant

when the wishing's done and his power's lost

The whish to whish it all away

that we all might just live a another day