Veiled in secrecy, love has turned into a mortal enemy; O hidden longing, what divine affliction or curse is this that has struck me?

When love is kept buried in secrecy rather than shared, it doesn't fade away—it turns inward and slowly consumes you. The poet speaks to their own concealed longing, lamenting how this silent passion has grown into a deadly enemy. What was meant to be protected behind veils has ironically become a divine torment, destroying the lover from within.