The WORLD is a battlefield,
A chessboard of black and white figures,
the grandest assemblage of Lewis Chessmen,
the only set complete and
well savagely alive with moronic plans par excellence,
locked into the most epic vicious duel you will ever see
with kings and pawns,
apocalyptic riders on white, red, and dark steeds —
Until a Grandmaster’s hand
waves the lances into a checkmate.
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Author:
Lily of the valley (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 15th, 2026 14:15
- Comment from author about the poem: That song is my apocalyptic impression of the world we live in.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments1
I took this as a metaphor for the world and its state. Well written
Yes, it is a metaphor of a faceless world, in which many actors are figures of Evil. We await the hand of the grandmaster to finally resolve this painful match. To whom that hand belongs is left for the reader to interpret.
So it seemed
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