The Price

The price to slice is actually nice

once, I put this life under the knife

twice, I swap who holds the dice

thrice, I dance with sightless mice.

In the bite of the sacrifice

beneath the vice, added advice.

(This is why there are whiles the wise don’t smile

this is why there are miles and piles

they go through.)

Pay pain, gay gain.

The day I deign to give up reins, leave the reign, I lift the rain and bow.

In exchange for the axe, I ask to explain facts, and change the backs of loves past.

Gift my gifts and curse my curses, best or worse is.

I am nothing more, yet I am sure.

To survive, I fly high with open eyes, speak the lies.

To over live, I try to shift, see through mists.

To sir vie, I won’t shy to buy disguise or disgust guys.

To surface, aye sir, face, I surf ace.

Every direction gets an inspection, or so my introspection suspected.

Each choice has a bright side and a night wide.

Indecision is an incision and a division, in my vision.

Prize is prised from price.

The lotion for commotion is the showing of emotion.

So the only way to go is take a side.

In the end I stake my life.

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