It is obviously a similie of chess. It is a battle field -- war. My turn!!!!!
It grows upon the wind,
Streaking through the sky.
Evil it perhaps abodes,
Many that will die.
It smells of fire, feels of flame--
black, a shhadow in the sky.
furnaces cause this burning tow,
above all it flies.
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If you study into a field, there are worlds of information waiting to be found.
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