She'd not laid out the chessboard yet your fingers played the game
moving up her body like a rook upon its frame

And all directions scattered as the vacant squares were won
kept by her fidelity then claimed as if a pawn

But only one can occupy the spaces in between
a narrow road that leads you into that which can't be seen

The guard is up and she is safe inside the lines that pave
a path without an end in sight - eternity, the way

Her en passant captivity may drain her weakened state
and bring about the enemy to stand before her face

But nothing's made if it's not moved for then it has no verve
advance, retreat - her victory is what you will preserve