Chess --- a short poem

Author's note: I was inspired to make this poem after listening to EpicLloyd's "PAWN" when I was doing my English homework. Everything in my poem is original, and the inspiration of this short poem is credited to EpicLloyd(Lloyd Ahlquist). (He's a pretty cool guy, go check him out! *flashy grin*)

Chess

The sound of battles broke the sound of the night,
with the checkered board as the battlefield for the war of black and white.
The stables burned and the buildings razed,
but the army was nothing but grazed.
The Rook clenched his fist,
sword gripped ,neck twist,
to see's who coming next.
But there's nothing left,
all round him was nothing but death.
Save for a king lost and facing his fate,
And the Rook whispered "Checkmate."

Upcoming short stories: "The Portrait" and "Geography"

Hello, K here. I would like to announce some upcoming titles, such as "The Portrait" and "Geography" among others. The ideas that inspired the two stories featured in this article are created by my friend Chris and I. Since he isn't too enthusiastic in creating the two stories, I took the pleasure for myself. My stories will be posted in chapters so you might have to wait for a while before the whole story is published. Stay tuned, and until then, goodbye.

~K

The Portrait, Chapter 1: The portrait drowned my friend

I stood silently as I listened to Ryan's eulogy. And why am I at my friend's funeral you ask? Well, It all started a month ago......

-1 month ago-

"Watch out, it's fragile!" shouted the man with the bowl haircut, Ryan. Widening his already large eyes. I brushed past him as he carried the new portrait of him he got from an old artist. As I walked towards the door, a soft 'splosh' reached my ears. I turned back to see Ryan freezing on spot, his portrait soaked in a bucket of water. He looked at the portrait and then water started to appear on Ryan, soaking him wet as water surged out for his nose and mouth, and before he spontaneously drowned, I heard his gargled, last words, "Help..me...it's the... por...portrait." And with those words, he dropped to the floor, lifeless.

Some time later, an ambulance arrived. I picked up the portrait from the bucket, thinking about his last words. I took another look at Ryan's body, which was getting dried up as he was hauled into the ambulance. I stared at the portrait again, strangely dried up in the time span of 20 minutes. Now that I think of it, Ryan drowned at about the same time the portrait was soaked......

Back at the funeral, for now. Before I left the funeral parlor, I took a long, last look at corpse of Ryan. As I walked out of the funeral parlor, I saw Ryan's best friend, as well as a famous writer, Chris. He approached me and started a conversation, "It's funny, you know. I've spent my life in the society writing fantasy and fiction novels, and then my best friend dies of paranormal reasons, right AFTER my book has published... Now, the least I can do is make a book based on his death, as a tribute to him. Well, I better go, books don't write themselves, right?" and then he was gone in the wind.

His little speech got me thinking, could it really be? Paranormal reasons... That could perfectly explain Ryan's death! And so, I started looking into my deceased friend's death.