If the plots thick call Robotnik
Catch all manner of rhythm & cynicism mixed with wisdom
A bishop sits in check, out among the common systems vision.
I miss the mission that would change how the game is viewed
go to war, & where they station you, you would wait your move.
pace it too...no sense running in without avoiding ways to lose.
the person you are adjacent to plays to a different standard.
the choice is in the distant pattern, what can eclipse the slander...?
submissive chatter lies in the distance, where witnesses gather.
folks pawned off as decoys & were promised sweet picnics after.
hell if they made it to the other side they could be Kings & such.
they toast, drink each cup filled with victory gin, a distinguished club.
laughed as if they didnt drink enough, they never saw things erupt.
how one could get slain daily & still stand to fight is freaking nuts...
Rooks, how they move straight forward after I will never understand.
came packaged with other plans, abilities to collapse one perchance..
but none advance further by choice nor on ones demand...
odd folk that came up in the world when it was too late to become a man.
where is the wonder at? the misconception is fueled by the Queen
whenever her advisers seen you would know its time to leave.
whichever eye she meets shes liable to easily defy your dreams...
one would say she goes overboard & causes life to seize...
why carry on? who would call this a fight?
should just hand them an L....& call it a knight..
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.....laugh....and the world laughs with you
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