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When the night falls in the boredom of oblivion
of oblivion, I'll be able to feel its lovelessness
hidden in its mask of hate.
I will feel the scourge of his mysterious silence.
I loved him, I loved him with sane madness,
but I never told him, I never showed
how much I loved him in my tearless silence,
caressing his face at midnight.
In the darkness, my passion burned
silent, consumed inside.
I let fear paralyse me,
let fear mute me.
And now, in the solitude of the night,
I can only regret the love I did not express.