ode to chess

An Ode to Chess Oh, spectral game of dusk and dawn, Thy board, a mirror of fate withdrawn. A realm of squares, both dark and bright, Where shadows play in the guise of light. Thou art no pastime, but a dire decree, A battlefield borne of eternity. Here, minds clash as swords in mist, Each move a whisper, a phantom's twist. The pawns, thy pilgrims of humble guise, March forward blind beneath steel skies. As lambs to slaughter, their purpose plain, Yet in sacrifice, they oft attain. From lowly step to regal flight, They crown themselves in the dead of night. Thy knights, they leap like fiends unbound, With arcs that defy both sight and sound. They prance on paths both crooked and wild, A cunning jest, the devil’s child. The bishops glide as specters do, On slanted paths through the foggy hue. Twin prophets of opposing creed, They carve through fate with silent speed. And lo, the rooks, thy bastions bold, Their linear march a tale retold. Like towers that watch o’er desolate lands, They crush all foes with iron hands. But thine empress! Ah, sovereign supreme, A weaver of chaos, a fevered dream. Her will unfettered, her reach profound, She strikes as lightning, sudden, unbound. The king, thy heart, so frail, so grave, A ruler shackled, a knight’s last stave. Each step he takes, a gamble of doom, Each breath he draws, a dirge-filled room. Oh Chess! Thou harbinger of woe and delight, Thou cradle of genius, thou thief of night. In thy web of tactics, both cruel and grand, Do mortals find the work of hand. For every victory, a mournful strain, For every triumph, a rival’s pain. Thou art the muse of minds bewitched, A game where fate is stitched. A game of life, in fleeting guise, Where kings may fall, and pawns may rise.