We pass each other in days of unforgiving loneliness,
With footsteps that recede behind closed doors,
Appeased only by nights of wishful thinking,
And a silence which can’t profess feelings anymore.

But yet I look at you and you say nothing,
And how I wish your heart would ask for mine,
But sadly you just smile and walk away,
And I’m left despondently behind.

Strange how you affect me, with just a simple glance,
I’m a lost soul impaired by circumstance,
Strange how I wait to give my heart to you someday,
But time has become worn out by unspoken words,
And tomorrow grows weary of our delay.

So now I look for you in the fertile fiction of the night,
Where one heart is no longer afraid to finally speak outright.
Where our feelings are no longer restricted by taciturnity,
And our imprisoned hearts can soar freely.