I have the soul of a poet, the heart of the sea.
I drink sparkling cheap moet, so much I don't see,

The grimness and darkness, of the world that I live in,
The cry of the fledglings with unspun wings,

The kind looks on faces, with many deep wrinkles,
hear the gentle sweet buzzing, of hundreds of bees.

I drink down the serum, designed by the Gods, to make my brain forever cease to work.
But the hate and the anger, the sadness the madness, leaves me tossing and turning until I come back to birth.

Consider my father, my mother, my brother, shackled to systems, when they are the one's who know what is best,
My blood and my bone, as sure as stone, thinking in patterns that they never thought to contest.

So I pick up the pen, the paper, the journal, with the fury of one who see's what is.
the wraps and the chains, strapped fast to our brains, that once we shake off is eternal bliss.

The shades on our eyes, the tailor made suits, worn by myself and the children who never matured,
Who found meaning for life, in a mob or a job, worn down by a life that they endured.

So I pick up the bottle instead of the pen, knowing that it will kiss me goodnight,
Then I put down the bottle, the smoke, and the pen, and the paper gives me the will to continue the fight.

What is white? and what is black?
Is the white God, and death the Devil?

Or is white your life and Black the enemy - whatever form you will, depression, illness, always shadowing the step of light.

An almost infinite random probability of numbers in the beginning. All to be determined by your own mind.  
Its history & creation still a mystery.

The king may be you, for that is the game. And think! What is the antithesis of you, for that is the black king you must seek to check. Every game is different.

The queen your counterpart. Whether it be a woman or man, or maybe even a god? Aggressively passionately destroying your enemy.
The black queen well - heaven hath no fury like a woman scorned.
The most powerful, helpful champion.

The knights may be your friends, the only piece that can jump over the enemy deep into the lines of onslaught.
Directed perfectly and they will give you the upper hand.

The rooks may be siblings, or family friends. Linear to the point. Influential when no other pieces exist, have seen the entire game and finally help you win it.
Foundations of the 4 corners of the board.

Mum and Dad, the bishops, the only ones that are able to slide in between the cracks of all the pieces, if you enable them to.

And the pawns.
Ah the pawns.
Only the true masters of the game know how to use them.

Only you can determine the battle between light and dark, whatever that may be.

Only you.