You're not proud of having me,
Those who are wise could clearly see,
But a fool had this heart let me be,
Because I'm still yours, and you, you're free.

And I don't mean to write as though love is a prison,
Yet every second of this feels like a treason,
Againts the kingdom of my mind, my heart, and my soul,
All conquered, all within a Fall.

There is no love nor compassion,
In your sovereignty,
There is only a delusion,
and I, who had fail to see.

A beautiful lie so moving,
it kept this blind man going,
"You're mine",
as so I had chanted,
with my pride aligned,
to nothing it was bounded,
to nothing but reality,
because that's the only boundary,
to a dream.

Still, with you,
Maybe a fool is who I wish to be,
Because with you,
Hope might just be.

Although Hope is just a possibility
of a dream merging with reality,
like two bubbles some would succeed,
most, however, would burst as they meet,
Although Hope is just a possibility,
Although Hope is just a possibility,
How could I settle for less?