Gambling Table

Caught between two extremes, with no compromise in sight.

Love and hate, free-willing fate opens the gates, and boxes you in.

Sword and pen lend no help, to the great stakes piled on the table.

Cards dealt, from deck’s bottomless chance, and your life as anti.

Your soul for a bet, now you’ve been raised, with nothing you’re left.

It’s all on the table, the whole nine yards; no one is here to lend you anymore.

And the cards are changing, without your knowing, even the dealer

Isn’t showing the same hand or face, everything’s changing at a blurring rate.

The pace is light speed; anger and greed are calling, for your hand.

The cards have changed; you better check the same, before making any more claims.

To the pile on the table, where everything lands, all of our beings,

Stacked in redeemable rows, and stocks locked up tight.

Depending on, which side of the table you found, yourself gambling,

With the muses and fates, gods and angels, demons and devils,

Line up to take a stake, in your willingness to shake, on the deal.

In order to steal the pot,

Spend the rest of your life free,

The gambling table turns over

Because the game is rigged.

Still think you can win?

You’ll figure it out

In the end.

~

DBrown Fisher

© Oct 2004