The End is the Beginning. Our true game has not commenced. What could we play in 20 years, When every more has many times been tested, and the memories of countless days have coalesced into the bricks that build the lives that we have made Because we stopped and stayed. Melded together with concrete moves The rhythms of our lives. Found somehow, despite all odds, a common ground, a gentle place to grow a deeper understanding, a loyalty, an oath, a knowledge or a bond, the type of thing that only happens when you sit a while and rest beneath a silent tree, [NBI to C3] And with ale or mead or spirit, you wish upon a silent star and feel an Ember stir. As time goes on and we draw near, Our final move will be most clear.
Between the light and dark I stand, A dawn where day and night expand. The Red Pill’s spark ignites my soul, To seek the truths that make me whole. I feel the edge where shadows gleam, A place where waking meets the dream. A threshold crossed, the veil undone, Where all is lost, yet all begun. I rise like mist from morning's glow, Embracing what I cannot know. The stars that die, the suns that burn, Each cosmic wheel begins to turn. I am the seed, the fertile earth, A witness to the soul’s rebirth. Through every step, through every fall, I dance upon the edge of all. So bring the dark, and bring the light, For I will wander both in flight. Beyond the dawn, beyond the sea, Infinity awakens me.
It is time, I will concede Let's start again and then proceed To play a new game, with a new theme Tame some new words, write a new dream. This game went wrong from the beginning When I messed up, my wheels spinning. And now again, a few turns back, Trying hard the code to crack, I switched your bishop black to white And so my moves have all been quite Outdated, unrelated to the board. I'm playing with a broke record. It has been fun, I must admit, to sit and strategize a bit. But now I find its time to quit And start a fresh battle of wit. My King bows out, old and confused But in defeat, new strength is fused.
I did not know that you would come, Except you've always been, Steady, strong, consistent, keen. A rock within the storm. I thought and wrote and thought and played and played and thought and wrote All the while my Bishop's Trapped behind your lowly pawn Guarded by a silent tree upon a checkered lawn. The stage is set, the story's grand The ink it flows apace. Your story grows And I must know What happens next to them - The happy man, his lovely bride, The boy, the duck, the toad So I traded in your rook at A1 My bishop stands alongst your Lord And I wonder will you castle and drive me from your shore? Or ...... ?? What? What are you thinking? Where do we go from here? It's strange to think That I am here, Drinking tea and trading beer, and other brews, concocting plots and planning stews. Just sitting And In this simplicity of line I find a game I can define.
A game! A game! It's all a game And yet we struggle all the same Money always gives us grief, But everybody has some beef, With life, or God, or government. We're searching for enlightenment; A way to ease the heavy load And walk together down the road, Laughing, singing, having fun - Building kingdoms. Everyone To grow and flourish at their potential. For our future that's essential! The fight is real the game is true It's hard for me, its hard for you But we have a cunning plan One that brings hope to everyman. A strategy to connect the strands Stand together, all join hands. 8 billion creatures standing strong Avoiding harm, getting along. Rook from H8 takes Bishop at H5 Another bid to stay alive
Trying hard to find the way l ask myself, again today, Who am I really? Do I care? What is this place? Why am I here? Do you get the things I say? What is this game I play each day? Who are these players, all unseen ? What does this pretty picture mean? Why pick me? I'm not a star. I do not shine. I cry, I moan and bitch and whine. I don't care for rules, can't follow the play I sit on my sofa and waste the day. Why do you care if I'm strong or detered? Why do you care if I write a word? All I know is that I am compelled gently, urgently, carefully held By rhythms flowing, Love, sun, friends To show up here Against despair To try, and try, to make amends. Wise Bishop takes Pawn at B2 Still fighting on, tho the options are few
So, we choose the third position Those of us with no physician. No sweet return to innocence, No hope of loving Providence. We limp along, flash in and out Of happy, sad, enragéd doubt. Soaring to the highest heights, Striding forth through shadowed nights, Stars, and seeds, and Starseeds all, Our quantum lives flash through the halls Of time and fate and all things grand. Yet here, alone, on Earth we stand. Down Quantum paths we plunge like fools Ignoring all conventional rules, We test the limits, trawl the deep Find new paths - surreal and steep. We honour Truth. We do not hide The evil lurking; pride defied. We perform great feats of wonder Soar so high, show off our plunder. Then we fall, and plunge to earth - With great sorrow and great dearth - an emptiness - the bitter taste Of failure - that precedes rebirth... With silent eye - the watcher's force - That alters each and every course King to E7 onward goes Not ready to turn up his toes
"What is a Gamer?" I muse to myself as I stand 'neath the harvest moon; the orange orb glows in the twilight sky whilst the orange cat sits at my feet and the chill wind blows o're my sharp sorrows and The Gamer finally sleeps. What is a Gamer? What does he do? How does he see the world? How does his brain work? His optic nerves, sparking, His eyes sharply darting, His fingertips, dancing, His keen mind enhancing Each possible quantum Node.... What is it like in his head? So harsh, but so patient, so gentle - oh so kind - he will stick you with his sword and he will kill you from behind. In comes the cleric D6 to E5 His time is upon him He is giving his life
There are many that need loving Many find the way too hard, They need someone who will guide them Take their hand and walk beside them As we journey, all, along. Me, I can not take help; I cannot accept your balm. My life is left behind me It was a life of harm. But, softly from the shadows Quiet voices bid me sit To sit, and write the story To write the mighty story, The timeless, endless, story With the words that keep on ringing And the phrases that are singing of the glory of these days. I am nowhere I am everywhere I am nothing I am all The story floats Around me And the finger Writes so slowly In blood Upon the wall