Thrice Denied
Searching through the forest,
chasing dreams your sleep abandoned
And losing yourself in the mindless
spatial distance
You play two handed poker
with the devil of the night
The Prince holding only one card,
as you gamble it all…
Forever promising:
“This hand will be your ticket out”
He relays his wagered truth,
with a baton of shattered tears
But time recovers,
the present firing upon the night
Hitting it at last dead center,
the debris now quicksand
Drowning the last excuse
of your bloodless past refusals
Salvation now in full retreat,
—all exits thrice denied
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2017
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