Feline Wager, Midnight Stare

Beneath the veil of midnight's breathless sweep,
The table’s set where shadows twist and creep.
Green felt, stained with secrets left untold,
Four cats in silence, eyes as dark as coal.

Their paws play fate with cards of worn despair,
Aces fall like knives in cold, indifferent air.
No purrs, no soft delight—the game is raw,
Each glance a threat, each flick of tail, a law.

The stakes are high, yet no one moves, no sound—
Just endless waiting, 'til the last one’s crowned.