Aces and eights, baby; all that I own

With this dead man's hand I stumble alone

Face down in the water before I began

Each new day bringing one more last stand

Nothing to lose; drawing closer to death

Gaze deep in your eyes with each strained final breath

You will see within mine a soul finally revealed

Each emotion; each secret; a cold fate now sealed

Those visions you hold of that innocent child

Hidden the intensity of the storm brewing wild

Perceptions; though valid dated; not always true

Chances for redemption now growing few

Throughout this eternity, so, aces and eights I will hold

Without fear; without regret; refusing to fold

The Dead Man's Hand burning deep in each vein

With every new bet; hope shall remain

Learn more about this author, Melissa Brown.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

---

Add your voice

Know something about Poetry: Heartache?
We want to hear your view. Write now!