Enslaved between the fog and fright,
Where gods of dark and lightness play;
A game of pieces, black and white,
A blue-green board to bend and sway.
Mortal pawns are moved, or held
For use in sacrifice,
By Kings and Queens, or Bishops dear
To questing blade of Rook or Knight.
A sport devised to entertain
The heights in mists obscure.
Removed from reach,
From pawn’s reprise,
This throne mystique endures.
Victims lifted from the board,
Once cast by Chaos’ hand.
‘Til anger birthed the rebel thought
‘You may be gods, but I am Man.’