I am accosted by Your love
Thrown into the turmoil of emotions
Given no chance to realise
That I'm about forgotten notions

Love ought to be a pure thing
But here it is despised
No one can forget Your love
Yet many try to hide

Impurities and long lost dreams
They think it's all they'll gain
What others try to offer them
Is always causing pain

Love now is no more than a toy
To be found and lost
To be enjoyed and forgotten
Yet they never realise Love's true cost

It is an unmoving thing
Forged from Man's first thoughts
It always is and has forever been
Yet now it is debauched

We claim that we know what it is
And yet we have no clue
Unless of course we have sipped
The Love that comes from You

You are yet still pure of heart
And know of Love's true worth
For it was You, the Mighty Craftsman
Who first divined Love's birth