Thursday, 19 February 2009
This is a poem about how the Church of England is just a part of the system that enslaves us all, how the Establishment is merely a mechanism for our enslavement and how we are simply pawns as in a chess game.
They see the world as 8 by 8 in black and white,
These Kings and Queens, Bishops and Knights,
Treating the people as the pawns on their board,
They enslave with lies, then kill with their moves.
The killer is a cultivated man, culling each piece
As must a red coat officer upon the Queens street,
With their complex plots to win simple squares,
They ride forth to war upon their wooden mares.
Pawns must obey as Grand Masters command,
Laying down their lives after taking up arms,
The Kings lend their authority to every order,
Sending their knights to breach foreign borders.
Queens guard their castles, Bishops pray in a palace,
Moralising over murder, each denies their malice,
For power is the motive for each new great game,
And crimes are ennobled so as to hide the shame.
Vicars bless the cannons that kill the enemy,
As whores in Parliament count out every penny,
The Queen in her palace signs every false law,
As tyranny rules and the world rushes to war.
When we are slaughtered we are remembered in stone,
And concrete pawns erected in our streets and roads,
The myriad war memorials built to honour our dead,
Commemorate the victory of a bloody game of chess.
All we are and we will ever be, is pawns without liberty,
Prey for fools who steal our lives with lies and larcenies,
The game will never end for we do not decide our fates,
Hidden hands control the board until deaths checkmate.