While our thoughtfully-placed chips may win when the coloured wheel slows,
The ball spins on, absent of profound meaning or motivation.

We save the world just for drama's sake,
As even the Joneses gasp for breath to keep up.

Through dusty glass, from the comfort of couches,
Where scholars would once have taught, we claim to learn.

Following signs in the night I never would in the day,
I find the conclusion - the only candid love is that of this moment.