Sunday, May 24, 2009

Untitled Poem

The mind is a battlefield
A chess game of sorts
White seeks for truth
Black, to distort

Strategy, study, discipline all required
In defeating the black
Let it back you into a corner
And it's hard coming back

Bishop, queen, castle
Same tools, black and white
Greatest strengths turn to weakness
Depending on the color of knight

For virtue, for vice
For good or for ill
To save and to heal?
To hurt and to kill?

It isn't enough
The white king to defend
Let white sweep black off the board!
That's when it will end

Who wins the battle
I will decide
For here is the secret:
I play both sides