In the cold days of nights,
Thinking of some things that are perhaps right,
But I don't know if I should have to fight,
Just to make things fine and right.

Placidly and deeply,
Thinking things toughly,
That there's even between you and me,
Even though you're not in love with me.

Fragments beneath of our destiny and love,
Had never decided deftly,
And never been shoved,
Because of my absurdity.

Nevertheless, what's the point,
If we're even not meant to be,
And never been destined,
Because I was way too frightened.

Frightened but I had fought enough,
Just to make my love to you tough,
Although, my intimacy to you was just a waste,
And never been meant to be praised.
Also, it has never decided.