the checkmate of things

Moonlighting as dawn, I watched lunar wonder withdraw, my fascination with night gone over to the darker side of reason.

I was merely a pawn, and I made you my queen, for that’s what a bishop advised me.

For all the rooks who would fawn and leagues of knights squandered over you, my

sword’s sworn fealty to a king.

I have not the brawn to bring decisive tides to bird’s eye battles, nor the eye to decipher stalemates beneath the sabres rattled.

I only promised
you a castle of plastic pieces,
watching checkmates
cheapened by their chosen
routes.

One by one,
the frontline fell, surviving soldiers fled.

I had been left for dead, cursing
cold night skies, my comrades who died as dark horizons
blazed.

Now I stand at your gates, in
in catch 22; do I keep losing at
the game or throw it
all away
for you?

Throne room of my thoughts in full
inferno and a
queen’s assassin in the
making.

If this is character
growth, our individual arcs are racing to
the bottom,

and I’m not sure what either of
us keeps chasing.

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3 thoughts on “the checkmate of things

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