I walk beside you, yet I stand apart,
With trembling hands that dare not seeking thine;
I seal the burning words within my heart,
And draw the veil across this love of mine.
I watch your smile bestow its gentle grace,
Upon a world that holds me far away;
I act the friend, wearing a painted face,
While night consumes the passion of the day.
Within the shadow of your steps I tread,
A silent guardian of a hopeless fire;
By strict decree, the words are left unsaid,
I starve upon the feast of my desire.
Be happy then, and never know my pain,
Grant me but this: a glance as you depart;
For in the void where silence must remain,
I build a shrine within my broken heart.
This poem captures the Victorian essence of unrequited longing—the exquisite agony of being so close yet infinitely distant. It speaks to the universal experience of holding a secret affection that must remain unspoken to preserve the status quo, turning the heart into a private sanctuary for a forbidden sentiment.
