180912
I was the king
sitting in highest throne
great row of pawns
couple of knights and rooks
forming wall of defense so tough
ready to charge,
provoking the death
through gritted teeth
I sent out my orders
thumping my foot on the checkerboard
black and white flashing in eyesight
my fighters with swords tight in hand
to destroy the fortress of your own
and to sweep you off your throne
grazing your fingers on the golden crown
looking nonchalant as if not in threat
you smirked so subtly that I missed to see
the fangs behind your smile
the guns behind your roses
the cannons all ready to launch
next moment I was on my knees
barely breathing, vulnerable and dying
guards all dead in the catastrophe
tears were pouring, hands were shaky
you were the mighty queen
I was the downtrodden peasant
tapping your foot on the checkerboard
you stood in front of me, whispering;
"checkmate"
YOU ARE READING
Wishful Thinker
Poetry/wɪʃfʊl θɪŋkə/ . of the unreachable dreams . "you don't understand me, you never do you never see words the way I always do now I will bombard you with words see if you will ever be lost for words" started : 180219 ended : 181205
