The Black Queen

Dark thunder flashed in the Black Queen's eyes,
her face hard and her body tense
with that deathless drive which, waiting, lies
in the throbbing heart of the human breast.

She waited, 'neath clouds of clotted gray,
'gainst winds shrieking by with no end
while 'round her finite figure lay
slain bodies of foe and friend.

The Black Queen's hair danced up towards the sky
as she stood awaiting her fate.
For reflected in those steady eyes
the White Knight glimmered in wait.

His war mare pawed the battlefield
as he steadied his lance over blood soaked lands.
He peered through his visor at the battered shield
and the bloody sword clenched in her hands.

Then from beyond that paler knight
a figure swept silently in place.
Her blue eyes shining with wraithlike light,
the White Queen ended her chase.

Armed with a quiver, and a bow in her grip,
garbed in a colorless gown as light as she,
a sad, slow smile inched 'cross White Queen's lips
as she foresaw what was to be.

And so as in this arrangement the battle-weary did partake
something faltered in the Black Queen's stance.
She saw one path allowed for her to make
as her king stood 'neath White Knight's lance.

"My king," the Black Queen murmured
voice low and soft as owl's flight
"my life is well past its summer
now speeding towards winter's night."

"My king!" she watched the White Queen
no tears daring to come
"I go, with you as the last I'll see
of a happier life I shun."

Behind the warrioress of darkened skin
the robed monarch stood
one who wished for simpler kin
who'd die for his love if he could.

"My Queen," he whispered, slow,
voice breaking in wild grief pent.
No emotion on his dark face could show
And the Black King's lips faltered silent.  

So with a single calm look back
the dark queen raised head and sword
nothing more was left to lack
so she knew as she went fore'.

The White Knight's horse tossed its mane,
rain began its battering of earth,
as the Black Queen's figure towards it came,
the king's last defense of worth.

Her brow glistened 'neath wild hair
stained sword glinting quick and sound
as it thrust through and past the white mare
and dancing, sent foe to the ground.

The White Knight's screams were swallowed up
by winds that hurtled by.
No more to drink from life's golden cup
as he sprawled in the mud to die.

As soon as the queen of earthen tone
drew her sword from his shuddering frame
her tools of war to the ground were thrown
as towards her the White Queen came.

Those opposites in outward shade
did gaze upon their counterpart.
The pregnant moon, the newly made,
and red blood from two beating hearts.

Then the arrowswoman of pale face and gown
nocked shaft to bow pulled taut.
The Black Queen ne'er glanced neither beside nor down
but gazed forward as the arrow was shot.

They say the Black Queen uttered few words
when the arrow through her flew
and as her death became assured
she gasped to her king, "For you."
   
With a sound of strangled breath
her body sank with heart-rending grace
she slipped into the hands of Death
as peace stole across her face.

Rain pounded on the stilled scene
down on the Black King's drenched form
as if to make his earthen body clean;
for his spirit could only be mourned.

As the White Queen let her arms fall,
the rain-glowing gown splashed crimson red,
a finger of sunlight shone weak and small
to alight upon the Black King's defeated head.

The White Queen gazed upon her claim,
her blue eyes flooded with pitying hate
as o'er the hills and across war plains
came a thundering voice from above;
"Checkmate."