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Poetry News Post #5080

The Game

Written by: Discurean Ranger, Ahmet Ter'sez
Date: Sunday, October 9th, 2016
Addressed to: Nobody



They laughed, you smirked, thought you'd have a good time.
A serious jest, but the expense was mine.
Underestimated, or maybe just plain rude.
A task you set before me, and so changes the mood.

Your cohorts fade to silence, the passersby all stop.
The world awaits with bated breath, for the sound of the pin to drop.
My eyes do well with sorrow, but I sign and nod my head.
Not a word, resigned fully, to the path you've laid ahead.

A raised brow from your lackey, some whispers from the crowd,
But silence as I turn and walk away with my head bowed.
A flash of something 'cross your face, your judgement starts to slip.
But you dare not take it back here. Hold your tongue, bite your lip.

Water, tack and rations, then I ride into the night.
Resolve remains steadfast, emotions offer no fight.
And so because you asked me to, away from you I go.
My head swings low in sorrow, and down this road I go.

I cast my thoughts to yesteryear, and 'neath my hood I smile.
The memories bring me comfort as I trudge along the miles.
The sunsets blur, the moons do rise, as months stretch into years.
I carry out my lonesome task and fight your greatest fears.

My mind begins to wander as I contemplate the cost,
But never do I doubt that you're worth everything I've lost.
My pack has grown so heavy, but my heart is ever light.
My coin-pouch is near empty but the end is now in sight.

A feeling so strange, a euphoria dour.
I ride for my home, but the world tastes so sour.
I wonder, does one really have a home,
After spending the years travelling alone?

I shake my head and I push aside
The maelstrom churning deep inside.
Never mind this nagging doubt,
You asked of me, I carried out.

Riding in, the ghosts whisper, memories of a happy past.
What I wouldn't have given to make those happy memories last.
I ride through these back streets as a strange feeling creeps o'er me.
Despite triumph, a chilling dread for what is soon to be.

A sigh, relief, a glimpse afar, a quaint home that I knew so well.
But just one glimpse as I approached, trembling, to my knees I feel.
Tucked beneath the window I hear the man who seems to be
Everything that I once was, the man that should be me.

He says something to make you laugh, my heart breaks clean in two.
You tell him that you love him, and he says that he loves you.
My world goes red, I'm filled with rage, a boiling, rolling hate
All for the man who would be me, because I was too late.

I stand and leave, my head hung low, look back and glimpse a kiss,
Thus the tears begin to fall, for what, for who, I'll always miss.
I walk my way to the centre square, and into the pub I go.
I order far too many drinks, and so I start to drown my woe.

I drink, I drink, I reminisce, remembering times long past.
I drink, I drink, and so I think, for us, the die is cast.
I cast my mind back oh so far, to every kiss, to every row.
I think of why I used to smile, the things you didn't know.

I didn't smile because you could always make me laugh.
I smiled because, at your worst, I always had your back.
I smiled because I knew you'd always smile back at me,
And that was what I'd given everything I had to see.

Just to make you smile, to help you through the day,
Just to keep familiar tears from running where you lay.
I'd wrap my arms around you when you'd shiver and you'd quake,
And whisper nothings in your ear, hopeful, bright, and fake.

But in your show I played a role I didn't know you'd cast,
Your judgement shattered by the things you'd been through in your past.
I did my best, I did for you, but hurt me all the same,
I always was a sucker when it came to your damned game.

I sigh and leave behind my drinks, I stumble to my feet,
Towards the door and out the pub, to wander lonely streets.
Around the bend and down the way, hindered by the drink,
The rage subsides, the sorrow dulls, so I begin to think.

I think of you, I think of me, I think of what is best,
I think of years spent travelling, all at your behest.
Hours alone, silent, but for the pitter-patter of rain.
A plan begins to form within the numbing fog of pain.

A promise made, a promise kept, albeit not the norm.
I duck inside a trader's shop to shelter from the storm.
Remove my case, display within, he asks my name and price.
I give no name and say, "No charge." A willing sacrifice.

Keep them here, within the town, for locals near to see.
Sell no more than one per head, and I'll charge no fee.
I turn to leave, he calls, "Wait, stop!" I walk on all the same.
After everything it seems you've won your fucking game.

Perhaps you'll see for what they are, perhaps it just won't click,
But I have kept my promise made, despite this one last trick.
You'll see them and your jaw will drop, you'll wonder all the same.
But I'm no longer part of this, your unamusing game.

You've won, congrats, you've won the game. You bested him and I.
I just hope he's stopped your tears from falling with this lie.
You got the best of both of us, as far as I can see.
For you, I do this final act, and so remain a memory.

Into the night I fade away, and with the ghosts I'm gone.
Perhaps someday I'll find someone, perhaps I'll then move on.
But in the days, the months to come, I'll feel this all the same.
Such is the price that I have paid, for you, your love, your game.


Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Glacian, in the year 724 AF.


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