This morning's Sun was not able to be captured in my parentheses.
It drifted at its own pace into the dawn with unimaginable perfection. Rising, She spoke silently.
We cannot hold what is not ours to keep. She rules the day while Luna gets
her beauty sleep under a canopy of stars on the other side of the planet.
Sure, Luna will visit in her fading crescent shell so don't forget her.
Behold the Queen Grandmaster in her laughing rise of grace. She promises
daily glory and hope. Don't disappoint her today. Respect her game clock. Please.
Tick. Tick. Tock. Staccato and final.
The stalemate move the King has made echoes into the saddened game but provides the Queen with opportunity. The cherished window.
Let those childish, chiding, and chafing mockeries fade into the abyss of ayers and never-agains.
Rise up. Just like the Metallica Goddess you are meant to be. Escribe. Write for you and be the merry Queen today. She grants you entrance.
About the Creator
Raissa Dassel
I have been a poet since my childhood. It peaked during my misunderstood teens and now again in my 50th year of life. It would be an honor to have people respond to my thoughts. I played the piano as a child, too. It is a beautiful life.
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