Riding the Historical Ring

A bottle of beer,
A plate of peanuts,
That's a small treat for me
To ride this bloody hidden historical ring in this hot summer,
As if it would be grund into a stiky mess in my mouth.
No spitting!
Law is law!
Gulping down this memory into the bottomless pit of time,
I see the flame
Ex nihilo.

In the Gamble of Love

I know it's just my wishful thinking.
I know in this simple game of tossing the coin of love
Winning you or losing you have the same chance.
Heads, full of frenzies,
Tails, deeply cold reasoning,
These two are twisted into a Moebius ring
Turning me inside out.
Although I have got more heads than tails so far,
I'm still yearning for
The miracle of the law of average,
Waiting for more tails to come.
I know the chance is just 50 to 50 each time.
Still, my dear,
I dive into this hopeless fallacy,
Just to see
How my passion manifests itself
In the gamble of love.