I ran out of stones for my poems
and so you rolled a saving throw.
Deliver the blow, overlord overthrown,
thrashing the throne, disassemble the drones.
Illuminate the unknown, obfuscate what I know.
Why fly all alone? Captain to co-pilot,
do we know the way home?
This verse is my cologne:
never leave you hanging
like a dial tone.
I see sly eyes flashing those sapphire stand-ins
but you know I know the emerald hill zone.
Catch me at the top, the last one standing.
Chessmaster,
we've known since long ago;
playing pieces carved from
bones of fallen foes.
Let me take my seat
across from you again.
Tell me what do you do
think of your old friend?
Make your move
and then we'll know
how deep this
burrow can go.
You can be the Queen to my Alice.
This love is a half-step between
obsession and malice.
It's all in the games that we choose to play.
It's all in the words and phrases we say.
It's the way you chase the night into day
using all of your your magic spells and swordplay.
THE CHESSMASTERWritten by Jungle (N.F.N.)
(C) 2020 all rights reserved.
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