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Game of The Dark Angel

The chess master sits down

And moves the pawn

The game is unfair

That piece is now gone


But all that matters is to win

Regardless of the price

Soon as the game begins

The player predicts the sacrifice


Yet somewhere far away

In a big green tank

One man does not want to play

He has the master to thank


This man spends his life

Surrounded by much danger

He sleeps with a knife

Spends the day killing strangers


In chess one must save the queen

But a soldier is no figurine


No game is the thing called war

Pieces lost cannot be restored

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