Gamblers Delight, A Fighters Right

Ashen face and reddened lip, a flash of blood on whitened teeth as with grimace grim he launches into the fight

The sting of a fist to the face, the overlooked cut, as a blade blindly thrusts to casually split flesh

The pain an echo of the fact that life is not done, a debt of suffering to be fulfilled by the deed of a blade

The avenging dagger seals the opponent’s fate with a flick of the wrist, fortunes lost on the gold coins bartered

Life like blood on the soiled sand is but a thing to be brushed away, men willing to shed the mortal cost as viewers casually pray for gamblers luck


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