A Die From The Dice

THE LAST STRAW BROKE

The bank broke,
It’s content flowed freely.
Ruins, the beacons of its trail,
So retracing won’t be stressing.

Once a leaf leaves the tree
It never goes back up.
It’s best bet is to decay,
Worst case, it gets cremated.

Will sorry suffice
At a table where egos are smeared?
Will swords return with dripping blood
When the battle line is crossed?

My bags are packed,
But first,
Here is my last attempt at apology.

Thomas Tee2emm Bot