Autumn Invades

Black knights are on the march
hunting the fair king,
scything sun-bleached pawns across the board.
They move in, almost unnoticed;
the winds of change at their backs,
masking their approach.
The bishops give thanks for the harvest
and submitting, pray for the rebirth.
The rooks claim their dark castles
and the bright knights are overshadowed.
The queen of light flees
to her starry eyed handmaidens.
The seasoned monarch stands firm
but cannot turn the tide.
He watches his efforts become fruitless,
his every move checked,
Usurped, he retreats;
Temporarily!