At times I make love to my confusion,
that paradoxical craze,
at other times it's as if I'm losing,
my mind throughout the haze

At times I could move mountains,
as prideful as the air,
at other times comes illusion,
where faith becomes a snare

When I hear the ticking silence,
a torment deep within.
then I fear I'm in defiance,
abhorrently in sin