A dream...
by dragon

I dreamt of a chessboard, one foggy night.
I sat on the board's left side,
taking the side of ebon.
Across from me sat a troll-child,
taking the side of white.

Around us crowded a hoard of trolls,
awaiting this important match.
The first move was made, then.
And then the second.
The third, and on.

It was an easy match,
despite my lack of skill.
Logic was the key, here,
and the basest strategy.

And then the final moves approached
and the child's rage grew grim.
A paw lashed out and the pieces flew
and we started the game again.

I never won, according to the rules.
He always won, I think.
It wasn't the game I'd known.
But I had to play all night.

I tried to sling the board myself,
once.
But found my arms restrained.
By the rule's I'd put upon myself.
By ethics I'd been chained.

The next night, I dreamed a new game...