It is an open contest
This life of love,
In which we are all contenders.
We have been in training for this.
Yet in a sense we are all cheated.
Never to be content.
If life is meant to be manoeuvres
In a dark square ring,
Then we are truly contestants of the heart.
We are all vulnerabilities too
We seek to give, yet are
All too often taken.
Love is a circle of truth,
With dark corners