Chess Poem by Daniel Y.

Many droves of rooks and pawns
are taken to another ward
in hopes of catching an upper hand.
They ‘fend their king by oath and skill
and what pow’r hath he?
In his death all survivors freed
to seek some other royalty.
The pieces move within their squares.
Who sets the rules which trap the board?
And makes every one take their turn?
A patience soldiers seldom see.
In truth, when all is said and done,
even winners haven’t won.