Gamblers

Where would we be
If we’d never noticed the vaporous rippling surface
Or crossed from this timeline to the other dimension.
If we had not overcome our fear of triple point waters
Or mistimed the opening from the moon’s reflection.

Was the cost
Of the chase
Of no import,
Do these letters
Fail to support
Time as unwasted
For a muse now
Tempered across
Alternating realities.

While the effluvium
Of her solidity escapes
In wells of hopes that lie
In dormant chases
Of the moon’s reflection.

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Most of Human Kind

The one who dreams weeps
While the dubious churn.

The dreamer hears
In remorse
Poignant nocturnes
Reflecting love
In distant halos
Of moonlit moans
Of the transgressent.

The dubious learns
The trickery
Of snake oil grifters;
Reviewing portentous proceeds,
Hacking away at what was imaginary,
As proxies fly through the heavens
Altering reality.

While the soul recognises
What should be realistically
For most of human kind.