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The love that you hold so dear for me is often not returned,
Your sweet gestures and passionate heart sometimes end up burnt,
The way you said you loved me with the innocence of a child,
Your continuous compliments you give to me never drive me wild.
The ways in which you seem to stare into my escaping eyes,
Your humble way of loving me has seldom made me smiled.
I do not think I’m in love with you, I do not think I can,
My heart does not belong to you or to any other man.
It belongs inside a bolted chamber, outside the realm of pain,
Preventing me from loving you, or ever loving again.
You’re in love with me, I know, and you’ve given me your devotion,
But I’m afraid that you were wrong, for I should not be chosen.
I’ll only cause you continual pain with everything I say,
And cause your will to love, to dissolve and drift away.