The level of pride in my blood is too high,
And shatters of passion are trapped in a shell,
I'm growing older, I cannot deny,
And something unique fills my heart's every cell.
Love sacred, love secret, love ably disguised
Is tormented, ever forbidden, but still
It speaks for itself, it is self-emphasized
At times when I quell it regardless my will.
The distance between us brings love only luck -
I'm close to you in my reverie land,
And when we do meet, I am totally struck
By 'devil-may-care' and 'just play-pretend'.
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Comments about this poem (Love Secret by April Avalon )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
- Bijay Kant Dubey
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
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