THE GAME OF DICE Suspended by the thin line of life, With elegance, dominance or force, Illumination, salvation or starvation, The game of dice. All that has been will be replayed, Beginning to the end. And once again , Up, we are from the sky above, Where it all comes, Glitter, confetti, rice, We all know now, more than before, When our feet touching the fields, Of barley, corn, wheat, All that there was, Will not ever be again, Trough the eyes of the hourglass, And yet the same -the game, The hand of God, That trough the dice.