Gambling (Last Card)

I shuffled like a virtuoso -
A picador taunting his sly perdition
with his bloody caper
but there was no console
in defeating the beast
by becoming one
and with every fold and shamble
I lost my flimsy gaze
from you
Or was it you
who abandoned my frail hopes?
Regardless,
the tables had turned
and the dice
had rolled perfidiously
trouncing my gambles

The roulette fell
on its own vertigo
and the house of cards toppled
and in this speculated demise
I held you, waveringly
with a feigned assurance
for you are my
last card
and I cannot afford
to lose
in haggling and waging
against my wracking bones

So when I laid you,
in between the rapine
of all my machinations,
hoping for hope,
I laid you
to my defeat
I knew
that I lost you
with all that I earned
in our gambles

So in this roofless chasm
I wallowed against
the deluge
of trepidation
losing and losing
without a gamble
and no
condole
at all.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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