What are the chances?

we are just distractions in some cosmic game of chess,
we’re like Twiglets or maybe Spangles to be worn as lucky charms.
by those creators on the edges of the universe,
and we’ll be gobbled up by black holes which we look upon as lost souls while the creatures who created fill their maws,
it’s a sobering reality to realise we’re disposable
and to think that we’ll all end up being taken by
a Bishop.

© 2019, John Smallshaw.