"Awaiting Move"

Reaching across concerned your hand,
as it knew you were lost,
as time began.
All lines were drawn in white and black;
we poisoned pawns
--to now, attack.

This game of kings considers God;
I wait on wings and swindle frauds.
A waiting-move forfeit on time,
and nothing improve
this-- a perfect crime.

This traps you've sprang
contains stale hate;
for this life,
I've done over.
Advance or hang--
Your smothered fate.
As for your queen...
Sure, I would love her.

Worthless! -- piece
with castle wrecked,
while conflict cease
in spite...
I checked.

The feats of square,
of white and black,
know all too rare
the perfect sac.