On The Lips of The Dead

The chance to redeem is rarely offered
Yet, when it appears, it comes at a price.
A cost so high, not all can afford it
No jangling coppers, but the roll of the dice.


And where it lands reveals a destiny,
A path the Fates have chosen well.
To bathe in sunlight, and be forgiven
Or burn for eternity, in the bowels of hell.


She takes the bones and gentle shakes them
Fingers tremble, sweat drips from her brow.
They soar through space and land before her
And, as they land, she screams a vow.


"May my thankful words be heard in the still night air,
May this moment be marked for all time,
Lady Luck she has smiled on this tormented soul
And now all I can feel is sublime."


The Lady looked down and with a glint in her eye
She points to the spots on the floor,
And with a flick of her wrist, the numbers are changing
The Fates smiling down, never more.


In moonlit halls, the cries do echo
Of a maiden knelt, hands to her head
The painful knowledge now imparted
Sits humbly on the lips of the dead.


Copyright © Victoria Preston, 2009
All Rights Reserved