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,
cheapened by their chosen
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
Now I stand at your gates, in
in catch 22; do I keep losing at
the game or throw it
Throne room of my thoughts in full
inferno and a
queen’s assassin in the
If this is character
growth, our individual arcs are racing to
and I’m not sure what either of
us keeps chasing.