A Hand of Poker With Nihil

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A poker game, a sullen room
Smoke filled air and liquor flows
A man across, a skull in gloom,
My hand is naught but food for crows

“A raise,” he says, his voice careworn
“A bluff,” I answer, in doubtful tone.
He shows his cards, my heart is torn,
A chill creeps down to my bone.

“I win,” he says, his voice despondent.
“I knew you would,” I say, at last.
I forfeit my chips, their gleam resplendent
“Why bet then, your fortune vast?”

Forever I took, and then a week
To find my answer to his query
Finally, I find my voice to speak,
And give words to my theory.

“Either way I played a losing game,
But that didn’t change what was at stake.
So if it was to be all the same,
Even impossible, it’s a risk I’d take.

“I knew someday I’d lose to you.
I think that’s something everyone knew.
But half blindly I still took my shot,
Even if now my heart turns rot.

“It is the soul of hopefulness
To take a shot, though you’re sure to miss
Eventually we all must lose to you.
I finally realized, that meant me too.”