O perhaps she found a soul more bright than mine,
A star that outshone my dim, uncertain shine.
Perhaps my hands were weak, my voice too small,
While hers was seeking someone to conquer all.
What spell was cast that turned her hues away?
What silence grew that made her heart betray?
She walked in pride, her footsteps cold, severe,
And left me bound in chains of love sincere.
The laughter once that blossomed on her face,
Now hides in shadows, lost without a trace.
My questions weighed, my dreams became a thorn,
Her dawn arose while I was left forlorn.
And still my heart repeats the hopeless vow,
That she is mine — though she denies it now.
Yet love, elusive, plays its cruelest game:
A half-lit flame, eternal without name.
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