Playing Apocalypse

 

In an atmosphere dimly lit

at a wobbly
three legged table
we collectively get at it

Playing the game of Anarchy
where the poorly crafted 

abstract rules

are changed daily

by the deranged game master

we never see

The only goal 
of this nihilistic contest
is to fortify your piece
so it survives
when the arm of Destiny
drops down

at a random time of it's choosing
and sweeps the players off the board

For you see in the end

my scattered all over the floor friends

Winning is the art of not losing