In Frailty and Sickness

You can't quite place this feeling welling up inside of you
It hurts because it feels right, when you know it's completey wrong
Leaving you shallow, and callous, with a pinch of bitter.

Hate how it makes you go for it, then stop dead in your tracks
Instilling fear and reluctance with a flourish and twist
A double throwback a century's score, holding hands is too bold.

We could handle anything, pain, sorrow, joy, rapture
But there is that one thing that burrows deeper into your entrais
We coud handle anything, but Love.