A game of chance for them,
Makes you wonder what bait you’ve avoided,
Aimed at pulling you in,
There are only two ends when you are caught,
That’s injury or death,
You may be seen for possessing a soul,
A worthless trade for what has been bequeathed,
You’re judged by the meat you can surrender,
If you are worth the time,
Puts wishing for death in a whole new light,
The apex of confined,
Of defined, too,
But naming comes after,
If you can’t avoid living in duress,
‘tleast you should learn the name of your captor.
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