Salt And Ink

Chessboard

A world engulfed in black and white

Where dwarves man the frontiers

Where harmless bits of wood and dust

Dissolve in battles fierce.

Where the mind governs every step

Where the mightiest fall prey;

To the merciless ticking of the clock

That compels them to slay.

And racial monstrosities haven't

Even spared this little world

For white is he, who gets to be

An undue step forward.

Despair, though not; for blacks, you got

A golden chance to win

So act careful, and realise you'll

See through your enemy's skin.

You might win this, battle of wits

But know it's hardly sane

For you to expect a fate so fine

In a world beyond the game.

For this, my friend, is where they end-

The black, the white, the fair-

And mush into a shapeless mass of hate

And drown you in despair.

A world where pawns are crushed as ants

Before their starting step,

A world where no determined dwarf

Can bring one back from death.

A world where grey prevails; be it

Your words of ambiguity

Your deeds that reek of faces two

Or your feelings of self pity.

A world where no living creature

Stays on a single side,

A world with a plethora of joy

That hides the scars inside.

The one thing that's remained constant

In these two poles of being;

Is the supreme governance of time

That rules; unfelt, unseen.

Oh! How my soul yearns for a chance

To go one-two-and-half;

For the chessboard makes my wrinkles set-

And life's what makes me laugh.