Philosopher's Stone

I've always wanted to establish
what one would call a School of Thought.
To write, to influence, to publish.
"You read it yet? By god, you ought!"

I'd count Confucius as a student,
trade candid insults with Voltaire.
Rousseau would call me harsh, but prudent,
and mutter "extra-ordinaire".

I'd love debating Marx and Engels
over an opiate or two.
They haven't thought through all the angles:
there's no utopia in you.

I'd rise above the ceaseless chatter
and will be listened to, by choice,
and count, in all the ways that matter.
Unfortunately, lost my voice.