It was never about love that was just understood. In her eyes I saw her sorrow and regret, yet in her pain I could take no delight. Knowing, yet unaware, I felt her love for the first time and for that I was filled with a profound sadness. For having held her so many times, all the desires, the memories and the lies, I never dared dream we could die because of our sins. So young and free, I will never know why we thought we were so wise to understand the promises we had made. It was never about love, it was always about the game, and how we carelessly played it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.