The Precipice of Speech
I hold within a storm I dare not show,
When unsuspecting eyes meet mine by chance;
A secret love that wanders to and fro,
Afraid to break the bond of circumstance.
Your voice re-echoes in my spirit’s deep,
Yet fear keeps every syllable confined;
I burn with flames that I can scarcely keep,
To speak the truth that weighs upon my mind.
Yet I must cross this chasm, vast and still,
And leave the friendly shadows where I lay;
To bend the precipice unto my will,
And step from twilight into sudden day.
Behold the dawn that rises in my gaze,
And hear the sigh that trembles to be free;
I shatter mirrors of our former ways,
To whisper now: ’tis you I love, only thee.
This verse serves as a bridge between the safety of silence and the vulnerability of truth. It captures that fleeting, breathless moment where one decides that the potential for love outweighs the fear of loss, channeling the romantic spirit of the Victorian age.
