On squares of black and white they stand, The pieces poised at each command. The king and queen, a noble pair, A bishop and knight, with regal air. Their moves precise, their strategies true, A game of wits, with skill imbued. Every move, a step in time, A dance of power, rhythm, and rhyme. The pawns, they move with hesitant tread, Protecting their king, tears unshed. For they know the cost of defeat, A value, they hold beyond deceit. The board a battlefield of the mind, A place of battle for those who are finely aligned. It's a game of patience and cunning, A mental fight for those who are stunning. And when the game is finally won, Defeat, despair, the feeling undone. But win or lose, it's just a game, The worth of life, it remains the same.