Futility

How many more days
Shall I have to live
On this Roullette wheel
Where words
round and square
of varied colours
Are being thrown at me?

Like a medieval thief
I gaze at the crowd around me
Delirious with joy
Fierce in expression
And void in thought....

How many more days
Shall I have to live
With my ankles shackled
to the stone with chains
of pity and false wisdom?

Like a prehistoric prey
I touch the wound
on my damp chest
As I lie down and gaze into
My enemy's blue eyes

How many more days
Of this placid torpor?
Deadly blue dreams?
How many?