The pawn’s curse

The dichotomy of black and white died a while ago on the board. Boxes were beaten black and blue. The bishop gave up and blurted out that the king had lied. The facade of the game was exposed. The futility of the play was publicized.

There won’t be games anymore, they said. They sharpened their knives and crippled the knight. The new masters talk of shades of grey. Why choose a side when we can collectively decide. Rules will change and tables will turn but the squabble for power will creep again. The privileged ‘equals’ will ditch the heads and keep the crown.

The memory of the pawns we tossed in fire will avenge us while the sword of our time melts away. The play won’t terminate. Ways won’t mend and ends won’t change. Knights of today will turn into broken horses. New battles will still be red and mundane.

Our tales will gradually turn into artifacts.