The numbing pain
The stinging hate,
The freezing sadness
A lonely state.

There is no light at the end of this dim tunnel.
Just street lamps and snow
Beside this winding path
To my fate.

May it be car crash or gun,
Maybe a lightning strike,
Or even one of those
Rusty metal
Spikes.

Whatever it is at the end of this confusing maze,
I will not run from it,nor fear it
But rather welcome it
Like an old, trusted friend.

I just hope and pray,
The next time I play this game,
I will know when to roll the dice,
And when to risk my life.

Maybe I'll even follow a rabbit,
Down the rabbit hole,
Under a tree of gray.
And dissolve like a wisp of smoke
As if I never was there,
Never have been,
And never will be.