Analysis of It's just chess

Striding, with his head high, the refined man approached his throne. Not as comfortable as a monarch should suppose.
Velvet or not, he barely seemed to bother, his eyes beaming onto the sixty-four.
As it began, the pair shared no words, the contest was their warm greeting.
Thirty-two scenes between both conquests, both wanting the other sore and ill.
She was a fierce adversary. It’s hard to disagree, as posh and possible better than he.

Every thought, danced into reality by trembling fingers; the whole scene used could’ve used some more glee.
The outside world unheard from, and unseen, ‘cause their world was woven between clay figurines.
Neither were familiar with the wave of time, the veil just naively passed by.
The stuttering game urged him to replant his candy-red tie ever so often,
His opposite’s unchanging face was an even more bitter poison.

He saw his shot at glory, little did he know that was reserved just for children’s stories.
In his head there was no mistake, anytime now, she’d fall for the earthquake
The idea, an inevitable play, sudden, solid and perfectly laced
A blow on the heart every pawn that fell, broken hope that in the end it would all mean well.
Waiting for the right chance became agonising, and before he knew it, he lost his king.