and the stronghold falls BA KEMONO
bombs catapult over a field of caltrops where I was a pawn primed for slaughter in an olden siege. as dread trickles down like hail, I surge headfirst towards an unseen peril for the scheme of a queen, the warpath dims where pieces come to life. polished, reaching and striking for angles, the sole victor roars the arena into ruins. and there she stands, proud, unscathed, stepping nimbler than the clock— guiltless. I forfeit and leave.
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