Craps' Cold Reality

[Annerfeib]

The casino became my obsession. I'm a man named Alex who squandered it all at the blackjack tables.
Every night, the gambling halls called. The shuffling of cards was my siren's call.
My wife, Anna, implored me to stop gambling, but I was too far gone.
On that fateful night at the lavish casino resort, I bet all we had: our savings, our property - on a "sure thing" bet.
My poker hand was beaten and the house always wins.
Returning home with nothing left, I found only a note: "I can't do this anymore. Your slot machine fixation has destroyed us."
Left behind in an desolate apartment, I finally saw that seeking a lucky streak lost me love and family.
Therapists identified major depressive disorder, exacerbated by gambling addiction.
Now, all the time is a fight not just with the memory of the poker table, but with the profound despair that haunts me. Can I possibly free myself from this void carved by endless nights at the tables?
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