HOUR 13 The Hand That Is Dealt

The hand that is dealt, from emergence to ashes,
Unable to quell that need within, eternally alone,
Until I saw the fire in his eyes.

Wrathful fire, flames that burn with fervor and fury,
Simultaneously they spark, incinerating us constantly,
Until I saw the fear in my soul.

The hand that is dealt, from emergence to ashes,
Unable to fall without a fight, unable to submit,
Until I saw the fire in his eyes.

Wrathful vengeance intertwined with intense craving,
Simultaneously needing the kill, struggle for control,
Until one of us drowns.

The hand that is dealt, from emergence to ashes,
Unable to relent, enforcing the arousing struggle,
Until one of us is extinguished.

Wrathful pride forces my hand, and I offer the sport,
Simultaneously unable to surrender, bloodied hands,
Until one of us is subdued.

The hand that is dealt, from emergence to ashes,
I lay my cards on the table,
To oppose the other’s supremacy,
We pick the prey of our opponent,
And the kill must go ahead.
Regardless of attachment,
Regardless of innocence,
Regardless of kinship.

The loser forfeits freedom, to the will of the other,
And the victor determines the price!

Confident of my ability, I await his response,
And my impending sovereignty.

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