To Be

"Of Man's first disobedience and the fruit..." -- John Milton, "Paradise Lost" I've never felt so out of touch With this reality I'll always feel that only Love Would ever make me free And so I find myself still here Within the garden of my fear A snow-white apple in my hand The deepest discord's dark demand To Be Complete The fire burns within my soul Within my deepest thoughts An argent flame in crimson, gold My soul cannot be bought Nor sold I've already been lost or won All saved or damned to be I've seen these sights, I've felt the sun What is eternity To me And so I find my soul not, here Within this wasteland, ever near Ah, here I find it almost sweet, to Be Complete