The Last Chessboard of Kings
Two brothers born of royal seed,
Rus and Ukra—both driven by greed.
The crown their father left behind,
A prize for power, not for the kind.
Ukra betrayed with whispered lies,
A kingdom drowned in blood and cries.
For seven years the steel did sing,
Brother to brother—a shattered king.
No mercy came, no victor crowned,
Only the ashes on sacred ground.
The throne stood empty, cold, defiled,
History wrote them—lost, reviled.
For power’s taste is sharp and sweet,
A poisoned chalice few can cheat.
Betrayal blooms where blood should bind,
The greatest treason of mankind.
And now I ask, as kingdoms sway,
With rulers feasting night and day—
How many thrones, one step, one breath,
Stand on the brink of blood and death?
Comments