Liar I am, to claim I love her most,
Yet dwell in shadows, truths unspoken.
Afraid, perhaps, to meet her gaze again,
Still, my heart longs, though words are broken.

Desire stirs to glimpse her face anew,
Yet fear confines me, feet reluctant, slow.
I tread the path where her footsteps faded,
Tracing echoes as the night turns to dawn's glow.

Maybe I’ll smile with my heart alight,
When at last her presence graces my sight.
Maybe I’ll stare, my gaze transfixed,
When our eyes meet in the quiet of the night.

Maybe my world will halt, time held still,
When her voice once more finds its way to me.
Or perhaps she’ll cast a piercing glare,
Wounding my heart with a touch of melancholy.

Maybe she’ll reclaim my heart,
To let me rend it with my own hands.
Or maybe she’ll remain unaware,
As I falter, hesitating, in my stands.

But the time is not right; I keep it sealed,
Entrusting it to a fate long concealed.