a match in the dark
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a ghastly …
prospect ...
the ground torn open before him
a wound in the earth that called to his dark heart
pulled on his better judgement like lead ...
warm, the darkness -
warm and peaceful, if but a plunge away
he turned back around to the giant chess board
it's alternate squares dancing -
monochromatic patchwork of fealty and fate
with just seven solid forms left atop it
only two were his, King and Pawn
hopeless barter for the formidable Whites -
King, Knight, Rook, Pawn
and yes, the opposing Queen -
bound on all sides, with but a last gasp due …
he glanced behind him at the crevasse
the torn black gape smiling at him
whispering, tender:
"all is lost, give yourself to the grim dispassion
soft and irenic, that which waits -
rest ... rest, and deep, deep abiding sleep" ...
Death waited on both sides, like cold bookends
though the gash in the ground offered painless silence,
(and the expunging of all his misdeeds)
not so, the black-winged specter he
faced in strategy ...
THAT end would be assuredly excruciating …
he looked once more to the abyssal hole
reaching back with one leg as
if to dip his toes in a puddle, dark … cold
then drew up to the board and made his move ...
the sacrifice had worked, you see
and in his rush to take the Black Majesty
Death had been negligent -
one oddly careless act
and the man moved his pawn to crown it
the final move was not required -
"sauce for the goose" …
Death put his head back and screamed to the sky
a scream that stabbed the marrow
as if heaven cared for his pitied displeasure …
he looked at the man briefly
then wagged his index finger with a wry grin
it transformed to a feather as he did so
the rest of his digits followed
and slowly … torturously, he came to his full form -
a raven -
so black that it devoured all
the light around it …
the massive, ragged bird shuffled its
talons to the board
knocked over its king with disgust
and flew into the yawning fissure in the ground
swallowed by the black earth that
closed in behind it
and there, in the dark soil and ash
a tiny green sprout ...
of life.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2025
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