Friendzone

Unfortunately, I Believe I Do Not Love You

A handsome man, adorned in gilded attire,
cast his gaze upon that soul, pure and entire.
At first, she marvelled at the aura he exudes,
that selfless generosity flowing through his moods.

A luminous poet with lyre in hand, 
master of beauty and art;
one unaccustomed to being scolded.

He, who all too often, revels in his irresistible radiance;
She, human in her naive innocence,
accepts, candidly, a gift meant to foretell the future.

She could not imagine that this offered treasure
Would demand a sacrifice—giving of herself without measure.

“I cannot accept this gift; I must confess,
Something stirs within me, an unnamable unrest.
I’d like to, 
but, unfortunately, 
I believe I do not love you.”

In an instant, the saviour’s mask falls away,
A false victim, before becoming a redeeming executioner.
“Cursed be you, daughter of Troy, and your people whom I deride!
May this divine gift now become the burden you must abide!”