Stalemate Poem by Rahul Aithal

Yearn to be a bishop or a knight,
if not the king in her life,
I live around her sorrows and joy,
unaware being a pawn; at her fancies, sacrificed.

Why elate in her presence and gloom in absence?
why do I not sleep from dusk to dawn?
why hope and live only at her will?
when her smile doesn't belong to me anymore.

Love is on a rampage when she leaves,
toying my amuses in a constant tussle,
players change but the game persists,
and the scars of battle remain in my castle.
Why live life of many deaths; like a soldier,
ready to die and be reborn in a race to cross over.

Play the game rather than being played,
and choose to perish over a life of stalemate.