Not all stoics are chess players,
but all chess masters are stoic.
Knights who sacrifice themselves, contemplating truth,
baring their brains among the scholars of war.
Burning neurons like Tal’s cigarettes.
Listen to the whispering eyes in the room evaluate them.
Their positions busting along with their hearts.
Staring with disillusion at the board,
one last time,
before the swallowing of pride,
and tipping of a king.