Chess
To send his pawns without a glance at their face
Knights of honor
Bishops of god
All undone the man covered in blood
A chariot of gold, shot by a wood arrow of old
Even his queen, the most prized possession
Sent away with a fierce aggression
All fall for the last man that stood.
To come crawling back, to a poor weathered pawn
To beg and whine until dawn
To ask it give its life for the one true king.
It obliges
To be captured not a minute later.
This Poems Story
I wrote this poem after completing a very stressful game of chess. I nearly had loss, yet I won with a pawn move that I am quite proud for finding.
Public Collections Containing This Poem
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Am I deserving?
PoetWilliam Hernandez-Han
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Prejudice
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