leonardcohenforum.com

The masters of
The rolling ball,
Have place all the bets,
Made all the calls.
The hang man’s noose,
Is around your neck,
Ship’s taking water
While we dance
On the deck.
Words and reasons
Are thrown at you,
To make you believe
The lies are true.
But you know
Deep inside your heart,
That hope is lost,
Been torn apart.
When the for
And against,
Are weighed
Out for you,
The know that neither,
Can be true,
You see that the masters,
Of the game,
Make good and bad,
Seem one and the same.
The bleating sheep
Are rounded up,
The slaughter house,
A bitter cup.
The ball is rolling
Down the hill,
As the spider moves in
For the final kill.

more at :
http://labyrinthoflies.com

small edit note, I think a d snuck away on you

The masters of
The rolling ball,
Have place (d?) all the bets,
Made all the calls.

Interesting thoughts.
I liked the image of earth as a rolling ball with the gods (masters) making bets as it rolled down the hill.
I noticed on your blog page that you used stanzas. I liked that as the pauses helped me read the piece in a more fluid way.

Thanks for your comment.
For interest I have posted a comment on my web site here:
http://labyrinthoflies.com/2013/12/the-last-call/