The Parable of the Gambler

I’ll tell you where our tale began, 
In Ravniniv and with a man, 
Whose dealings rarely went to plan, 
The parable of the gambler. 
He made his living playing dice,
Though luck was never very nice,
He asked the Raven for advice, 
The prayer of the gambler. 
They made a bargain on that day, 
That he’d have luck when he did play, 
But his life’s earnings he would pay, 
The payment of the gambler. 
His dice were kind in every game, 
And he began to win acclaim, 
Though his opponents did defame,
The probity of the gambler. 
As he began to rake in gules,
He traveled down the path of fools, 
Buying words and worthless jewels,
The pitfall of the gambler. 
His reserves were soon depleted,
And still his rivals felt quite cheated,
Not long after he was greeted,
By perfidy of the gamblers. 
In some dark alley he was thrown, 
A knife lodged under his breastbone, 
But he was not for long alone, 
The patron of the gambler. 
The gambler knelt and wept and cried,
He owned nothing when he died, 
The Raven shook their head and sighed, 
The poverty of the gambler. 
They said they’d take his soul instead, 
But then the Rook appeared and said, 
That his dominion was the dead, 
The property of the gambler. 
The gambler could only stare,
And hear them talk of the affair,
As they discussed his soul’s fair share,
The portions of the gambler. 
Then suddenly a third appeared, 
She approached and interfered,
At the gambler she peered, 
The person of the gambler. 
She laughed as only Magpie can,
Offered the gambler paradise, 
If she could just take him away, 
On his soul she would lay claim,
For Magpie does not follow rules, 
Thus the contract was completed,
And gambler was the Magpie’s own, 
And the Magpie was his bride, 
With the blood-tie on her head, 
They made such a lovely pair,
Though it all was very weird,
The passions of the gambler.
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