Love, a bargain, it seems, a peculiar art,
Where if you cherish, you play but a small part.
Too available, your worth starts to fade,
The love you deserve, a promise unmade.
Play too cautious, and love slips like sand,
For fading it does, with a careful hand.
Take a bold risk, yet it still takes its flight,
Perhaps too risky, you lose the good fight.
So tell me, dear heart, how is this game won?
For I have failed, and my loving's not done.
Though my love is gone, a part of me yearns,
For the self that was mad, where passion still burns.
That self that cared, and tried to embrace,
Gave its everything, in love's tender space.
Yet I lost in this game, with a heavy, sad sigh,
Still I love the same, as moments go by.
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