Love is a tender warmth that cuts like a knife
Then often walk steadfast into the night.
To love is to risk getting hurt,
To see things rightly, with an open heart,
Because love, my dear, is a daring game,
It beckons softly, yet burns the same.

Cause the risk of pain lies in love's strong hold,
With disappointments, disagreements, heart in time turn cold.
Although hearts entwined will clash some days,
But through...