~

After the game, the king and the pawns go in the same box
Why toil for status and climb over others to secure a place to rot
Fighting wars with metaphoric yet tangible violence to justify your cause
Spilling crimson to mar a canvas where serenity once was
Corrupting the very essence while siphoning the beauty
The slaughter lacks objective and will birth the cruelty

The king, affluence running through azure cold veins
He is a husband and father, a political warmonger