(Audaci Favet Fortuna)
sum
  are
     won,
sum
   are
                    earned,
         some are,
funny, some
                  are burned
and the smoke is moved
heaven-
                                       ward, with open hopeful hands,
cupping the wind,
                           like wings...
                                                        ­ Sending the
                                                      remnant­ wishes
home giving
feet to dreams.
                                                    Sums lost, some cost
                                   lives of the unfortunate,
inhale the wisp on the wind,
   to guide, a way from the ashes,
and hot coals heaped on the heads of the guilty, inspiration from any source better not back an unlucky horse, a trifecta;
      there is no handle on reality, there is no night dreams that succeed once exposed to the light of day traitor trials, and you think that once
you get on your knees to pray you will be stuck and stay that way, you your voice to the heavens, will be invisible smoke, a clear cold thermo-          cline,
that there is no help there; but you'd be wrong; the choice you chose before you burnt your fortunes, fortune which favours the bold, a silent tattoo, not a noise until the needle hits a nerve.