Sunday, November 21, 2010

The Pain of it All

I stand facing every direction with nowhere to go.
Every move riddled in pain.
Stuck on death row.

The Queen is dead.
The pawns have scattered.
My allies, like autumn leaves, turned colors and fled.

Alone, here, I stand,
a King to no one.
Trapped on my own land.

Bewildered by my forever twilight state,
I stand.
Leaving life to fate.

Make a move or die alone.

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