Whispers on the Board

They’re just fragments, moments I felt, and I shaped them into words. Nothing perfect, nothing grand. Just me, writing.

1. Some nights I play the pieces, some nights they play me,
   a little silence, a little storm, that’s how it has to be.
   Not every loss is bitter, not every win is sweet,
   it’s the heart that remembers—the moves, the defeat.

2. The board was set, but the pieces were wrong,
   they whispered in voices, cold and strong.
   Every pawn stared back with hollow eyes,
   a kingdom of silence where reason dies.
   I reached for the knight, it moved on its own,
   the queen was laughing, carved out of stone.
   Checkmate was whispered, but no one was near,
   I’m trapped in a game that feeds on fear.

That’s it. Just two drops from the bucket of thoughts. Felt like sharing them here today.