10/2/95

My part in the game begins.

New worlds open and close

a war for the port of call

Journeys across the country

Identities forced upon the unwilling

Violent and offensive comments

pelt like bullets

A character drops out of the game.

No longer able to handle the barrage

The catcalls, the invitations to "get on with it".

Under the shelter of a quiet night,

The character slips out of the game,

to nurse the wounds away.

The game is life threatening.

It has complete control over those involved.

Late nights of strategy, confessions of weakness.

Insisting on taking time away for its cursed plan.

Feasting on the weak-minded, the soul searchers,

to carry out its evil plot.

The chain of command is broken.

The new replace the old, worn characters.

The old tell war stories, laugh about battles.

The new think its a lie.

Old try to warn of dangers only known to time.

New create battles of their own.

The old have but vanished from the battlefield.

Their numbers dwindled to near extinction.

They have been replaced, out numbered.

The game is winning, taking everyone down.

The hope to beat the game receives little support.

The old characters have dispersed,

The numbers no longer worth counting.

Young have taken over with foolish thoughts,

ideas of unsupported strategies

how one can win the game.

They can't.

The game takes a backseat.

Personnel receive full knowledge of the damage done

by the emotional turmoil of the game.

The characters try to re-assemble themselves,

some fail and are put back to the front lines

some succeed to dominate the game at last.

The game has taken yet another survivor and offered

double or nothing.

The character chooses the nothing.

Having won and lost

Everything and nothing

For the last time.

Jennifer Kelbaugh

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