Choosing My Weapon (Dead Man’s Hand)

JMC813 kills it xx

Kindred Words


This King bows never to such grief

As my song fades to black in thin air

Backed into a corner is a familiar place

That I have been and many wish I hadn’t

Grave digger extraordinaire wields a shovel

In place of the usual assortment of killing toys

Watched by the ever vigilant eye of her cunning

I have been mistaken for this Angel in Black

Far too many times to recall each life taken

Here I stand before her asked for my choice

Lady or Tiger in a game of fatal chance

I choose this deck of cards once more

Again I am dealt a Dead Mans Hand

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