This is a poem that leans on metaphors. This is the poem Empty chessboard.
The chess board is empty, plundered
The king has blundered,
failed to protect his queen
from soldiers so mean
While the bishops fled
The king went to bed
His kingdom burned that night
while his pawns waged a useless fight
One by one, the towers fell
a rook died with a tremendous yell
The king awoke, bathing in sweat
So many were dead
As the king searched in vain
for ways to prolonge the time that would remain,
The stark faces of the soldiers, grim
were enough for him
to end his own reign
By sword and his own hands
And this is how the story ends
Did you think there was more?
I’m sorry, there is no backdoor
The ending isn’t always happy
I know this sounds crappy.