Like a rose blooming in the depths of winter,
The warmth of passion, burning bright and true,
A fire that never fades nor wither.
Scent so sweet to the soul.
Like the moon, it hides behind a veil,
Concealed from the watchful eyes of the sun,
A fruit forbidden, yet so hard to resist,
A love that dares not see the light of dawn.
With every stolen glance and whispered word,
our passion grew, wild and absurd.
We\'d sneak off, far from prying eyes,
to bask in the warmth of each other\'s sighs.
In secrecy, it flourishes and thrives,
A love so pure, but labeled taboo,
Like two puzzle pieces, never meant to fit,
Bond so strong, but never meant to pursue.
And so we whisper, in the shadows of night,
Our hearts so full, yet afraid to show,
For fear of judgment, rejection, and shame,
We keep our love a secret, never to let it grow.