Drones

Pawns move on no account of their own Two steps ahead, one step back Replaceable Yet seemingly important to the game What a life they live Believing they choose for themselves where to go What to become But every move is measured Every step carefully watched, planned By a King The game could go on without them Bishop against Rook Queen against King So why do they sit Waiting for orders Forward They cannot look back Cannot travel side to side One choice Illusioned into many Forward Attack With the royalty silently urging them onward With fear of consequence That does not truly exist It is only a game And if the King fell The pawns could not survive For they are mindless Though numbered as the sands of the sea Without a purpose They would drown