White snow from the sky
red cheeks on a child
all around me smile and smoke and play cards
with a thunderous guffaw, I’m clapped on the back
my friends double with laughter
they can’t see my trembling mind
don’t know my desire to fold
as the hand is dealt
my face cracked with sorrow
I choke, and smoke-rings flee my heart
is there hope for one
lost in the valley of the shadow
desolate, yet hoping
shattered, yet throbbing
throbbing with life spraying from
her fingertips…

The fat lady rests in her chambers
coughing the phlegm of my victory
projecting from mouth to spitoon
she groans and she faints
love shines bright on the horizon and
she’ll not sing today

(from “Part Three: Seduced By Fantasy…”)

Heavy despair but there’s hope. It ain’t over ’til the fat lady sings.