Saturday Tournament

On the checkered fields of war, the king prepares.
Overlooking his devoted bishops roam,
Knights gallop in a calculated play,
Every move is a step towards victory or vanquish.

Bold pawns advance with a steady march,
Their sacrifice a common stratagem.
His queen commands respect with her regality,
And rooks gather to guard their sovereign.

Yet, lurking in the shade, there is doubt.
The king, cowardly, scatters across the field.
A pursuer invades his defences,
And in one misstep, he seals his fate.

He is captured, cast away from the field.
To hear the cheers that spawned from his yield.