Riders tearing through the crowd
Archers there the ranks out-thin
Pikemen by their spears enshroud
Walls are cracking, breaking in
From the height strategists command
Envoys hurry through the fight
The spy since long within foe's hand
An ambush planned in darkest night
Fortune of war seems to lie with either host
Unprotected lies the flank
Breaking through - the riposte
One can see the men draw blank
Finally they dare to lunge
Two hosts in one another plunge
Shields are breaking, armor's ringing
Blades are seeking, finding, stinging
The old man watches what is done
Deems himself to win at last
But intrigues are already spun
The last chance has since long past
Impacted and in ill embrace
On two fronts clamors the fight
There is no mercy and no grace
The end will come within this night
Thirty-two times a wooden figurine
Black Tower and the white Queen
Then the castling, there the gap
The Queen draws in to spring the trap
The King left to his fate:
Mate!
