On squares of black and white they stand,
The pieces poised at each command.
The king and queen, a noble pair,
A bishop and knight, with regal air.

Their moves precise, their strategies true,
A game of wits, with skill imbued.
Every move, a step in time,
A dance of power, rhythm, and rhyme.

The pawns, they move with hesitant tread,
Protecting their king, tears unshed.
For they know the cost of defeat,
A value, they hold beyond deceit.

The board a battlefield of the mind,
A place of battle for those who are finely aligned.
It's a game of patience and cunning,
A mental fight for those who are stunning.

And when the game is finally won,
Defeat, despair, the feeling undone.
But win or lose, it's just a game,
The worth of life, it remains the same.