The monarchies clash in eternal hate.
Their pawns advance, wielding their deadly spears.
The majestic horse leaps, the bishops wait
'Till their cue is called and their prey appears.
The field drowned in sounds of many a sword
Whilst arrows fly above the siege towers.
The whole battlefield now a bloodstained board
Once ended are all scarlet-red showers.
Once the climax is gone, the tempest swept,
The black king cries with cheeks of ebony.
On and on for many days had he wept,
crying for the turn of his destiny.
Triumph! Victory is finally white's!
Regret, black king! Feel your painful contrite!