Gambler's Sonnet

   Once there was a gambling man who did not chip in money, but his life. He was a young fella, and an enthusiastic one. Willing to risk his life for a bit of a joy because he knew living was only dying if it wasn't for a good time. He had a great life full wonders but he died too young. Nearly six months before his death, charming smile on his young and oddly worn out face turned into a mournful one which was gonna be the very grave of this lad. Sadness brought bad temper along with it and all his beloved ones turned their back on him when he had one foot in the grave.

   Reason behind his sorrow and death had been unknown until his journal was revealed after his death. He was stabbed 14 times by a woman with nails painted red and purple and hair black as midnight, his favorite colors. Police opened the last page of his journal which he scratched the cover of with a dagger, only to find the sonnet that made it all clear.

   "Grave that I grief,

    My little lady's heart you impose upon.

    Mark my words, young one

    After this bottle, you're done.

    Dark clouds setting my sun,

    Casting shadows upon this lonely misery.

    If I belt down any more whiskey 

    I shall rain blood upon thee.

    Now that you took my darling's tender heart away from me

    All the butterflies in my stomach dying tenderly

    Unlike the everlasting anger that grit my teeth.

    I had a fight with the woman whose hair black as midnight,

    She says she'll send me to kingdom come

    If the days of your grave ever come."

    Kathleen by Townes Van Zandt. I'll see you soon.