Categories > Original > Poetry > random poems
Only the next move. I look down at the pieces. Consider my next move. "You're definitely good at this" I say. He responds "This is life". And I can see, the movements all coincide with who he is. Always quiet, always thinking, contemplative, controlled. I never knew why he was so quiet, but playing here, I see his life, how He knows everything, and can react to whatever I do, no matter what. So I move, and wait for his turn and his move. He looks at me and says "Every action has its consequences".How cliche. And he moves another piece. Damn! Lock me in will you? My turn. "You can't stop my moves, even if you try to cut off one path, I'll always find another". I say this with a false bravado, because I know for every one move I make, he's got two more ready to counter it. He looks at me, looks at the board and responds "If you believed what you say, you would have won, and be out of the darkness". I look down, stop to think, and notice the pattern of erratic movements. This is my life. Time to find a new path.
Sign up to rate and review this story