Chess
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Chess
Let us play a game.
We will act like there are two sides,
and the scales are even.
I have seen the metal weights,
they keep under the table.
They are real,
and made to cheat reality,
in favor of fantasy.
Starving people are easy to control.
Those that have no weapons,
have no defense at all.
Sheep go to the pens,
and believe they will be sheered,
and spared, for another day.
Instead, they will be served to the diners,
on plates of gold and silver,
hammered from melted wedding rings,
and fillings.
Death stalks the unwary,
but does not kill right away.
No. Instead it chooses to play,
with its toys, its food, and its treasures,
depending on the time of day,
the wanton moment,
or the ever-repeating cycle
of the full moon.
Wolves choose sides,
as even they know there will be a culling.
They don't want to die with the rest.
They try to hide among the innocent,
to be spared... the knife.
Heroic men will take note.
The only question is
"Will their heroism exceed
their sense of personal fear?"
Men of old
had sons and daughters.
Their lines still exist.
They are the Watchers.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2022
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