The armies of the Thin White Queen have mustered all their strength

Pawns lining the front lines reach for the wrench

Of life from death then whimper on the edge

She waits for the signal to start the whole barrage.

The Kings take up their places under her sovereign rule

Waiting for her charge and her approval to make their move

The knights joust for position to hear the battle cry

She waits for the moment as if under a waiting eye.

The bishops pray and to no mortal life they prevail

Waiting always in the wings they make the long tail

That only the few relate to they moaning sighs

Mumbling meaningless prayer through battles night.

The Thin White Queen raises her arm in readiness to move

The whole field on battle is now open for her to prove

She is who she says she is and full of life

Never to acquiesce to the war of heaven’s strife.