Waltzing into the blanket of dusk.
A pawn escaping across the checkered board,
Out and inwards to the green grassed yard.
A sleeting figure, past-and-future,
Gone the way of the fearless noble rook.
Down-acrossed squares of black and white.  
Into the field of endless battle.

This game we play, has become a tournament.
White against black, two players locked;
Locked in a battle of constant wits.
Who shall win?
The noble too afraid to capture the evil queen or,
The darkness plauging the board.

**Check and mate.