The enemy is not the black or the white

He is in the air and pesters with all his might.

He is the Prince of the Power of the Air

And conquers all who at him will stare.

The battle lines are drawn up

They’re ready and tooled up for the cup

Of suffering they will surely drink

Teetering dangerously on the brink

Of certain disaster, help far behind

No one is there to pay them any mind.

Stand along the back, menacing look

Watch the Queen, we’ll take her with the rook

Sliding forward unawares 

She gently succumbed to the many affairs

She has to deal with to get to the king

She’s off the board now, troubling

Wait for the lonesome pawn to come

Then again released you become

The Queen of Terrors, they locked you up

The cup of blessing you will now sup

A powerful play to stem the battle flow

Slipping down the laddered board you go…

The Prince is beaten, the only one

Who could hold a candle to the Son

Now defeated cast in chains

Victory now is all that remains.!