Building Tension
"It's like an Agatha Christie mystery where the tail is the head," ... by Poet.
Since when do shadows privy forward,
wealth measured lead imbue the Sun's light,
none be the tray of hearts, a crossword,
shuffle true your way gifts the catchword,
keys to secret clubs at mid-hours night.
Reserved seat nexus yours, the best friend,
show of hands, to the nines, nails -- dirt deep,
pick a card, save one that life; depend,
choose that blessed number, life might extend,
roll the dice, sow your life, gamblers reap.
Game of a lifetime, be it your own,
birth to present -- glows, after -- who knows?
The wheel spins; now wins and sins, they clone,
but when it STOPS! Silence, twilight zone.
Eyes 'rounds, yours stare ... you know who it chose.
Traceback days past years, I knew all?
A kid who hid ... closet bare -- no bones,
yet all the while, I faced a stonewall,
pockets full of intrigue, the Eighth Ball.
Cheers indeed, well played to 'Crossbones!'
So, 'twas you and me though always you,
games we play, day to day, dawn till night,
times I won 'twas part of the game, too,
your master plan was to define who?
Naught us? There's another! Who'd that might ...
My friend's family ... My Night of Nights!
A former worker ... focus on one!
Remembered why ... who'll show up in lights?
History this mystery -- ignites,
"Your chair ... so he can't make it ... your son?"
Copyright ©
Hilo Poet
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