Like a breath of fresh air
I die as the wind blows this way.
My thoughts crumble to dust
In the wake of the heavy doubts
I'm still carrying onwards and on.
Watch my echo as it shifts
From existence to simple fantasy.
I'm standing between the lines
That I made with my own hands-
The same hands holding the chips.
We realise our fruitful gains
Once we lose them in foolery.
Betting away myself to her greed
Has left me with only one coin,
Playing truancy with eager eyes.
The penny drops and cracks;
I spill from the inside out,
Flowing down the ruptured rocks
With what little self pouring
From all I have left in my footsteps.