The Game of Chess

Location

16066
United States
40° 42' 59.22" N, 80° 7' 13.8936" W

As the whole world awakes to dawn’s first light,
The battlefield prepares for a grand fight.
The monstrous armies, assembled with care
Assume their positions with dauntless flair,
For this is no scrap, no bout, broil, or brawl;
This is a war in which winner takes all.
This is chess, the game of majestic kings,
Far more important than most lesser things.
And though these two hordes know not why they feud,
A life without gall is a life subdued.

And so to their posts both black and white march,
Arranging themselves in a social arch.
First go the lowly pawns to their abode.
They sit defenseless on a cliff expos’d.
With only power to move but one space,
These raw recruits are not apt to give chase.
Their virtue lies in sheer numbers for force
And their abil’ty to veer off of course.

Behind, two rooks stand steadfast on both ends;
Of logic and mind, they their king defend.
Adjacent to these are the frantic knights,
With swords e’er sharp and horses that take flight.
The clever bishops take the awry way
For it is rare that they have truth to say.
‘Tis bishops two then that this war provoked;
In the blood of many, their words are soaked.

And now for king and queen, the royal pair
These regal pieces take on haughty airs.
The queen flits about with courage and speed,
To the rules of the board she pays no heed.
The daring king, fearless leader of all,
Behind his army stands erect and tall.
Though brave as a hawk, he remains hidden,
Blockading in the city forbidden.

So play begins, and the dice are just cast.
How long will luck and how long will fate last?
A pawn forward for white and matched by black,
A sacrifice made, a prize taken back.
The queen released from her lofty tower,
Conspires and plots, her crown like a flower.
Black, so obliv’ous to the Queen’s sly coup
Concedes a pawn now, and a bishop too.
The sable king, in a fit of great fear,
Sends a command so that his rook may hear
To hurry with haste as his private guard
And castle with him to protect his heart.
As the kings sit behind their walls of gold,
Their minions battle through the hot and cold.
The rivers flow with blood, both black and white
As knights kill triv’al pawns and rooks kill knights.
The queens slash blindly with their deadly swords,
And then only three were left on the board.

The kings in opposition, and a rook,
White has now fallen; all hope it forsook.
The pale king looks into Death's eyes with fear
And falls with a thud; the board is now clear.
The battle is over, but who has won?
Such terrible conflicts have victors none;
And the sun sends dusky rays to the ground,
Ev’rything has been lost, but nothing’s found.

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