I seek immaculate things once or twice disposed
Partied in revelry in their nameless repose
Unspoken for simple sake of suspense

"What is your name?"
Echoes in the fragile cortex
Gnashed in gears of fate we blame
Seeking fortune, love or fame
Forging in it paltry discord
Illusions of one and the same

Why then do I still feel your pain?
No longer you wait, lonesome not alone
Still agony pierces the marrow of my bones
For I am but the prick of the pin
Driving within the palm of my hand
"Free-flowing love" we might pretend

Drivel, profanor of that which cannot be seen
Dismembering beliefs of unabashed sin
What feels right to do must feel right within
Else it comes to such a cataclysmic end

Bounded and drawn by untruths that bind
Dramatic entirely, never too kindly
So free-flowing it chokes the thought of a tear
Unshed for the lover that never was here