The Devils Eyes Come To Pass

A roll of the dice yet again. The hit off the table and jetting across the felt. Silence.

Sitting in the edge of the bed, bent over, head in hands what was once a dependant man. Everything now lost.

Thinking of what had happened, what he had done. All lost. Gone but he’d never forget.

He was listless with his emotions. Echoing through the black void before him, in that dark and dank hotel room.

The twinkling lights outside, each one a set of eyes viewing him. Judging him.

His mind flirted to how it happened, how it began. The past, just days before creeping back on him.

That wander through the void, the cash and coins, the buzzing machines. The groans, the moans as if it could ever be an inviting place, yet all swarmed throughout like insects.

Striding through like he owned the joint, what was once believed. Rolling the dice in his hand, throwing some extra chips down for good measure, snake eyes. Beaming back at him, just what he needed.

A cheer, a pat on the back and claps. They all surrounded him like vultures. The devil eyes creeping in.

Another grab of the dice. Another lucky number he thought, she blew on the dice for good measure.

It was lost. They didn’t forget.

As he slumped out, nothing in hands, they all started, gawped their big red devil eyes at him.

The devils eyes always came to pass.


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