Love, Oh what a myth among the proud!

What would I give to signify the yearning from within?

What price won’t one be willing to pay just but their heart to be read open?

Which kind of flowers do you send to show how much you value it?

Lyrics we choose to echo the sound in the heart

By poetry the image within is painted

And by art the picture is drawn

Love, oh what a priceless commodity!

Not bought by gold, not earned by might

But among the lowly, amidst the most humble of hearts this relic is found

How paradoxical, that within clay jars is packaged tons of gold

Kings and slaves seek it

It is not found by pity, it can be hidden by mercy

But humility exposes it

Love, Oh what a myth among the proud!