barely of age to think of food
he pulled out the set of black and white
carefully carved out of marbled wood
i was put in a competitive mood
the night of the cerebral fight.
put forth the rounded figure head
tactic used by the great master
one of his then took its stead
i could not help but fill with dread
for in the game I was an amateur.
rasp taps and quick glances the battle went
medieval stances in their dance
binary colours to both sides were sent
i was almost forced to circumvent
until my horse made its final prance.
through the ages we kept our fight
the game soon was my preference
i could not turn down his invite
we played until he lost his sight
and that has made all the difference.
