Your Love is a Curious Thing

Thine own eyes show feathered Grace,

Yet it comes upon me as iron ablaze.



Its touch so tender and yet so incomplete,

Through thick haze I cannot see the way.



It is in smoke and ash you rise,

Fire turned to soothing steam,



Envelop my heart and burn my eyes,

Your love is a curious thing.



I cry and my tears, they soak up the bed

Cometh thy eternal flame,



Touch not my skin, nor a hair on my head,

My heart shall burn through just the same.



I am down on my knees from Wretched Despair

And still you see it as praise.



Perhaps in my suffering I found hope hiding near

It will stay ‘til the night meets the day.