by Louis Bertrand Shalako
c2011
All Rights Reserved
It is not in whether you win or lose
But in how you play the game
It’s not what you got.
It’s how you use it—and I suppose what for.
***
On the sixth level of the game, we find a great vast void
It’s a dark and quiet place, full of broken promises
And unfulfilled dreams
There are lots of shadowy figures
And no one seems to know anything
Deathly spectres
None dare look a living man in the eye
The only sound they make
Is a long, draw-out sigh
It is a place where nothing is real, yet solid enough underfoot
A place where you must never say what you are thinking
And you should never believe what you think you are saying
And everything has to be imagined before it can happen…
It is not up to us, to save their world
They should have thought of that before.
The Seventh Level
Oneness with the Game
Having achieved the fullest understanding
Of our own ignorance, and that of others
Then we may achieve true bliss
We have made it this far
And we have learned to listen well
We see beyond what is real
And to look behind that which is false
We have learned so much
We feel the truth within our hearts
And we must be grateful for this
To err is human
To forgive is divine
We are all in it together
Not for a long time, and not for a good time
But only for a short time
Let us see that we make the best of it
Upon achieving the seventh level of the game
We are truly free.
Author's Note: I have three prior fragments of the poem scattered about, so I will dig them up and stick them together. Polish the full length of it, etc.