What reason it is found,
In a soul that is bound,
To the simple way of acting
After feelings are reacting?
All of them, and many more
All of them, forever lost,
To the simple way of feeling,
That love always keeps on thinking.
They sink, drown, and down forget,
About what it was once said,
That the eyes filled all with love,
They're all blind, still filled with trust.
So they gain, while getting lost,
When it's gone, they see the world,
How it's shown, without the love,
Dull and empty, filled with lust.
After all, which matters most?
Love or reason, never both,
Freedom, or just being lost?
I'll forever wonder off...