I take pride
In jeopardizing my life
Unlike monopoly
I have one die
In life
At a time
I
The lucky spender
Received a splendid surprise
The sublime arrived
Just in time
On the night
Before destruction

Yes,
There is a bit friction
In this business
Non-fictional character
Rises in the author
I wrote
The book of the dead
And spread knowledge
On earth’s bed

Now,
I’m denied credit
For risks taken
Instead of a praise
Appraised
For my edgy ways
And found
Guilty of pleasure

I’m
In debt
With the angels
Who lent me
The soul makings
And sent me
On a mission
Which remains
Unaccomplished
In their vision

I am
Sole proprietor
In this business
I have no relations
Trust none
My inquisition
Seems superstitious
When you unravel
My unreal supposition
But suppose
For a minute
That you were in
The opposed position
And posed
With the mind of a menace
Who, sadly,
Never stepped
In the shoes of sanity

Society views your life
As a stain
On earth’s plain
Though, your pain
Seems self-sustained
You were born
Insane
Would be better off
If offered removal
But awful is often
Sought
In the eyes
Of vile beholders

The unnamed soldier
Is the truest
Of them all
Marching down
The broken road
To destiny

The
Know-it-alls
Know nothing
At all