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My White Bishop
Mark A., Phoenix, AZ

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By Michael D., Nampa, ID

on a wooden field, with wooden men
a wooden war raged on
a little wooden test of wits
between forces of right and wrong
I played against a demon now
we fought the war of wood
if pieces of a game could bleed
I’m sure these pieces would
without thought of life or limb
pawns stepped forth and fell
beaded drops of sweat fell down
upon a wooden hell
the demon leaned close, gloated loud
it was clear that he would win
so many lost their lives in vain
as good gave way to sin
“Your bishop or your knight is mine!
Both give me victory.”
I swore, I screamed, I cried, I begged
take not that piece from me
I sobbed not for the loss of war
though the demon had won the day
I instead begged the demon please
don’t take my White Bishop away
The demon reached forth, talons raised
and took part of my soul for his own
he moved his hand; to my dismay
my knight stood there alone




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