Pokerface

                 There used to be
                 three players
             I, The Wrath, and God of Eyes
      Spinning on Wicca, the Energy is The Return
                Fascination with the
                     power,
                      the
                      trio
                possesses me well
No smiles                             No hints
           nothing but ambition
                 and
                 no
               squints
Table full of gold
Twelve skulls aligned in a clandestine circle

  Sage is sprinkled
                   in the Hole
I dabble with these
plates,
     and shuffle The Wrath's hate
If your'e unique as I am, you'll see through perception as it sees in me.
 The God of Eyes
              cannot see through me
                 50 crossed
                     and
                 50 straight
                        I display
              my coins in front of him
        he thinks he can see me, but I see his bluff
                   The Wrath, I know what
                       he chooses
     the Aces of Anguish, his skull
 of countless lines
I spot the latitude of his self-perish as
    he rubs his pointy chin,
   the burning pits of his
         eyes
I used to be in his place
 He'll neverknow; blinded by his own
               fury
the God of Eyes
     looking to far
                 sees only past me
I throw a queen at his lashes
 and snicker as the
  hundred-eye monster
        flinches all at once
Make a false exchange, face of empty paper
I was The Wrath
              and now I see everything,
                     but thirteen
                   seconds ago
                I had no name
The anger owns me, hear my growls
much more than before,
if I'm beyond The Wrath,
surmise who I am now.