Welcome to a forgotten board,
A place within the past.
Where hopes and hatred ever soared,
And fought until their very last.

A girl so young with hair of blue,
A nurse with amber eyes.
The pieces of the witches two,
That risked their very lives.

That girl, she tried but failed to see,
Beyond June's final day.
Friendship was the golden key,
That paranoia threw away.

Time after time the game repeats,
A hundred years have come and gone.
The parasite of delusion greets,
And devours that witch's every pawn.

Avoiding those triggers creates a lee,
And makes those traps completely void.
But still the witch of certainty,
Has other methods to be employed.

The way to a miracle is revealed,
It seems the day is won.
But the enemy, til then concealed,
Now brandishes a gun.

Why don't we play a little game,
Cauliflower or broccoli?
The result shall once more stay the same,
An absolute fatality.

There remains now just one final round,
The seventh piece arrives at last.
With this last element finally found,
Can they undo the tragic past?

The enemy looses one hundred pawns,
This final board decides the war.
Pieces made strong by ten thousand dawns,
Are what the witch of miracles has in store.

The offense overwhelms it's foes,
But the miraculous counter is greater still.
A contest both of wits and blows,
Will the heart prevail, or the iron will?

Festival music signals the end,
Of the ideal future that soul had made.
Tears that once made destiny bend,
Mark the start of the days she delayed.

They returned the card that was removed,
Making death and sorrow mute.
And the miracle they made has proved,
That certainty is not absolute.

Thus the game was ended,
And the opponents parted ways.
But a title must be defended,
So til then ticked away the days.