ordained we are winners or losers of all.

No go-between, seer, or gentle soothsayer, 

enlightens a fool to an experienced player.

Deal again and again, oh, mysterious friend,

the phantom of dreams walks on to the end

this time to the wall no one passes through

to uncover and discover a different view.

Like sugar to bears temptations fine lair  

draws in and deceives the innocent, fair,

until the call made, “wake up to today”

folds into the pack long lost yesterdays. 

   
The loser the soul, the winner our pride, 

and the phantom of dreams destined to die 

struggles for breath in mind’s unholy mess

like spider webs turned into human distress. 

But deal again life to the dead as before