The rules were rolled into ripened fruits and
Dropped in the midst of heated discussions.
The sweet honey smell of distraction
Oiled the passage of hot afternoons.
Arguments ensued over the purpose of king and queen
And someone thought the bishops were useless.
Questions descended like an arrow hail
Bursting streams of further questions
From the bodies answering them.
A single will prevailed over all
'These are the rules my friends;
You can not play, if you won't agree'.
The winner smiled devilishly.
We can guess this from the embedded harmony,
The omnifarious beauty behind every move
The shocking clarity of the final aim.
Tyranny is at the heart of every game.
If you've any comments on his poem,
Hassan Abduldrazzak would be pleased to hear from you.