FOR S

Left to fathom, dreams of you are born still.

A subtle touch that slips over your hand,

I dare to wish against the world's will.

The hollow, misery I am to feel.

Makes me hope, sadly, you also must stand.

Left to fathom, dreams of you are born still.

How can I dream the beauty and appeal?

When he has been blinded by time's sand.

I dare to wish against the world's will.

The night has gone and I stare up to mill

the time you were so close to me and at hand.

Left to fathom, dreams of you are born still.

With weighty feeling I wish you goodwill.

Though I doubt it now, on my feet I'll land.

I dare to wish against the world's will.

Is it love, and must I pay the bill?

If it were it that plain, I would have planned.

Left to fathom, dreams of you are born still.

I dare to wish against the world's will.