Battle Royal Poem by Kevin Moss

All prospects were grim to say but the least,
my short life would end just after the feast.
Invited to dine by King Hugo De'vear,
I knew the kind offer was not that sincere.

The table was set with all kinds of food,
to quench appetites of the King and his brood.
The fare looked delicious, fresh on the plate,
no hope of finding A piece of stalemate.

De'vear ate so much his stomach did bulge,
although I was hungry, I chose not to indulge.
The guests all gathered to witness the kill,
whilst first making sure, all had their fill.

My Queen had run off with A Knight of the realm,
white army defeated, only me at the helm.
By my side an old Bishop, haggard and worn,
A Knight that was wounded and one tiny Pawn.

The dark Queen held her hand out and asked me to dance,
but I knew to survive, I must keep from her stance.
Her Knight came toward me, her Bishop my side,
twas that moment I realised, their was nowhere to hide.

I walked to the corner of the black and white checkered floor,
hoping to make my way to the door.
Black King gave the order, his Queen her move made,
very soon I would face executioners blade.

Black Bishop my left, black Knight to my right,
dark Queen stood in front, A daunting sight.
Then raising her sword as if to seal my fate,
she proclaimed with passion, game over checkmate.

(09/02/12)