Chapter Text
Canto I
A Dame of Grace and sunlight was the Queen
A mighty sovereign of all her realm
And all her court she gathered on the plain
To play a game she had herself devised.
It was a joust with very simple rules,
The oldest game in every universe:
The High Queen drew a line into the sand
And said: let there be sides, one Black, one White.
Now let those sides be diff’rent from each other,
And that may make them hate and go to war,
And as a symbol of that war both sides
Are to appoint one special champion each.
A hubbub went through both sets, Black and White,
As they stood, anxious, on their playing field,
And as they didn’t know what fight would come
And weren’t allowed to talk, now, with their foe,
They issued forth as their ambassador
Two very different champions, such as this:
Canto II
The Black side chose a snake of mighty cunning,
So fluid and graceful in his moves, so sly,
Like quicksilver and swift in his defence,
As well as his attack. They thought he’d win
Each kind of challenge She could throw at him.
Masterful his scheming and so wily,
A serpent well-skilled in imagination,
Brink-full of optimism, more than any.
The White side chose the best of their sword-fighters,
So strong and solid, principled and upright,
Like a tall mountain, unchanged and unchanging,
Soldier incarnate, Guardian, and the Queen’s Knight.
They reckoned nothing, aye, could overcome him,
No bird’s beak grind down any of his substance,
And that his wide intelligence would shield him
Against all onslaughts of a tempting rival.
Behold the moment both chosen opponents
Face off each other, commencing the battle!
Canto III
An arena has aptly been created
The Queen and all the courtiers are well watching,
The contestants have been prepared and readied,
And all the world forgets to breathe with tension:
They take each other’s measure, careful, cautious,
And each thinks: why me? What the deuce I do now?
And as they start amiably to chatter,
And find they think each other quite enticing,
The Queen gets bored and orders them to wrestle!
A cheer runs through the crowds of bichrome colours,
And all the hate the teams accumulated,
Is channeled into our two beloved champions.
They bow to pressure from the folks around them
Both Queen and peers appear too much to gainsay,
And they undress as is for wrestling custom
And oil their skin and stretch and warm their muscles.
Canto IV
Our heroes Black and White, the best of each side
Have took the measure of their situation
And of each other, and begin to wrestle.
They quickly thus develop an Arrangement:
They both do what they have to do to uphold
An image of two adversaries wrestling,
But careful not to really hurt each other…
Because what happens when one of them wins this?
And as the wrestling match goes on for aeons,
They keep refining tricks and grips and touches,
Making a home in this their magic show act;
They keep pretending, prestidigitating,
And actually they get quite comfortable
With little bits they’re carving out for themselves
And for each other, until someone calls out:
“Are you certain that they’re really wrestling?”
Final Canto
How Higher Powers play with us below,
And we are only pawns upon their board,
This tale has shown thee, listener agape:
God doesn’t give a damn, make your own story!
~ F I N E ~