To all who have scoffed at my ability to be loved,
I pray you know my heart's true desire
Not to be loved, but to show she is beloved
That, dear demons within my eyes, is the only thing I beg to acquire
In my life that I walk in alone and solemn
And determined to show her that she is wrong
That she, too, is worthy of having her heart cradled
Though she aches and worries, she is capable.
This desire, this craving, to prove she is beloved
Rushes through my veins as if a roaring river
And I intend, whether she looks or not, to display it
Over the fairest of lands, the purest of seas,
For she deserves only the finest of things...
To all who have scoffed at my ability to be loved,
I pray you know my heart's true desire
Not to be loved, but to show she is beloved
That, dear demons within my eyes, is the only thing I beg to acquire
In the life in which I walk alone...
