A very, very weird view of the Harry Potter books, Dark, as usual. Poetry.
Death's Head Dice
Roll the dice, win the game,
Death for the loser, all the same,
Blood on the ground, blood on the board,
Hack them down with fortune's sword.
You try to play the games, life is your stake,
Gamble away, for your friend's sake,
A danger to play, but rewards are allowed,
It's hard to win, but possible, you've found.
Win your gambles, keeps your stakes,
Rewards don't matter, when it's your life's sake,
Win, win, win, leave them in the dirt,
And forget that when you lose, it's gonna hurt.
Fate's turned black, dodge the blade,
Hits another who dies instead,
Mourn their loss, pretend not to know,
That your lucks starting to run low.
Luck's run out, cards are blank,
Fortune's flowed away through the crack,
You try to run away, but it's not any use,
Far too late brat, snake eyes, you lose.
I, um, technicaly don't own anyone but this is so abstract it's bizarre.
Please review.