Chessmen of Fate and Mephistopheles’ Laugh
Kings and pawns beneath a sulfur sky,
Their fortunes weighed on polished boards of wood;
A whisper coils where hidden bargains lie,
And Mephistopheles laughs where empires stood.
The Ottoman sultan bowed at Vienna’s gate,
A knight’s false mercy slipping through the cracks;
The diesel roar of tanks at Dunkirk’s fate
Confirmed the cost when moral lines go black.
Contracts inked in smoke-filled cabinet rooms,
White queens traded for gold and fleeting peace;
History’s pulse in those decisive wombs
Beats on—each echo bidding conscience cease.
Now avatars in glass-lit halls convene,
Their moves discreet, behind encryption’s veil;
Climate, trade, and borders all convene
On scripts that court the devil in detail.
Yet pawns may stand and strike with righteous hand,
Reclaim the board when darkness seems too vast;
For though ambition wields a devil’s brand,
The human heart can checkmate darkness cast.

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