I am but merely a pawn on this chessboard of yours my King.
Often am I the first one to make a move.
Often am I cornered into submission and swallowed by those of higher rank and importance.
Often am I disregarded and tossed aside early on in the game.
Often am I forced to step down and crouch before you
A symbol of respect, I suppose.
Rarely do I get to play among this battlefield of black and white until the very end.
And when the rare does occur;
And there is not a single one left but you and I,
And whatever move made concludes that the odds are in my favor,
And the words “Check-Mate” ring loud and clear,
This time, I know, I will not be the one to bow.