Upon the marble foundation
stood kings of light and dark.
Each towered above their noble men,
each watched from their royal mark.

The queens faced off where they stood,
while the knights mounted their horses.
The bitter players sat on each side
considering their forces.

The bishops were positioned beside the rooks,
the pawns in a line up front.
Up there they would take the attacks,
up there they would take the brunt.

The pieces were arranged in perfect order
the match was about to begin.
The players shook hands, one stone faced
the other with a stretching grin.

The pawns of ivory made their move
while the ebony ones looked on.
And so it went, one piece at a time
until most of them were gone.

There the queens were protecting their kings
before one made a fatal mistake.
With a slash from a knight, the queen was brought down
and it left the king to quiver and quake.

The pieces that were left quickly moved in
and the king was pushed to his knees
His crown fell off and rolled away
to the sounds of his dying pleas.

She whispers
“Maybe you should cross the street.”
“He could be a threat.”
“Are you surrrrre you’re safe?”

Such goes the daily commentary from my inner racist
She is persistent
And ever present

Always ready to inform me
About differences that are scary
Stereotypes that could be true
People that could be a threat

The least inattention allows her
To spring to the fore
And take over

Battling her is tiring
And feels thankless
And lonely

But if she wins

She divides me
From those who would support my struggle
As I support theirs

She divides me
From family
From friends
From connections that sustain me

She divides me
From myself

So the battle is necessary
But I wish I could believe
That someday she would retreat for good
And the battle would be done

Teach me lurch these sheer visceral swings…fix my future tieing up all past rumbling strings… And never promise me again with tales of folly things

Take me to oceans, today I wanna plunge into those waters and dissolve my expections

Push me into forests for I wanna be reminded that I was deserted before by you and this ain’t new!

I am in cross roads couldn’t comprehend universe, seems like a bestowed curse…going through hypothetical battle, just letting time to travel!

You Glance at me even for a split second, my scars would gaze at me to poke as cactus plants asking not to find any romance neither would I give it a chance

Teach me lurch these sheer visceral swings…fix my future tieing up all past rumbling strings… And never promise me again with tales of folly things

I fought.
In the battle ground.
I surrendered.
In my own game.
I lost.
In the arena of life.

Battle to my death,
Without fear, without worry;
Create my story, and be feared.

Souls lost or longed,
But never prolonged the spear.
Lost cities and palaces,
The sand covered them all.

Meadows run dry,
The colonies fall prey.
Sad are the years,
Yet they pass by.

Why battle to death?

The truth to be shamed,
Lies prevail the sea.
Man wishes more,
And condemns the truth.

Death clears the path,
No mist to the mirror.
The Crusader is dear.
              
-D

Thou, dishonorable Highlan' skellum,
Thy dreary whunstane shall not see again!
Nor thy unworthy Clan Banner,
Yet my Blade!
Yet my Blade!
Gleaming here, owre,
At auld Stirling Bridge,
Wi' fiery bluid imbued,
Graving still deep mirk stane,
Under yon Steel Glare
Ne'er to wane!