To fall from grace with such a pace,
To sail away with ease and say,
To end the game with die still to role,
A tragic end to another of life’s matches.
The power of emotions so strong and compelling,
The fear of loneliness sending madness acending,
The control of the roll so necessery yet pointless,
The power so deceptive and feeling so cold and ineffective.
With the game so old and yet the players so fresh,
Match point to anyone who learns first,
The rules of the game so bold and compelling,
The aims so warm and appealing,
Though the final line will be crossed alone,
With nothing to show but what you could contain,
Hold, grasp or pinch,
Win or lose, there can be no draw.
Copyright © nEoPOL 2008 All rights reserved
Poems are featured @ BOOKSIE.com