Check (a poem by Jack)

Is he nothing more than a lost king?

 A king without a kingdom… This life has managed to continually find a way to mock him.. Hints at what he once was but cold slaps of reality constantly remind him of where he is..

Spit on the grave.. So sleeps your king..

Extract him from what he once was.. Place him in an alternate environment.. Just to see how he’ll react..

Laugh at the prideful corpse..

Will he still be righteous.. Will he still be noble.. Will he still retain confidence rather regal bearing.. Or does the circumstance shape the man..

If he never knew who He was.. Then what would He have to lean on.. If he couldn’t see beyond sight.. Perhaps his fate would be that of the next man.. Just another .. Struggling to survive and satisfy one’s desires..

I see false kings and prophets all around me.. I see charlatans and philistines with the nerve to express pretentiousness… Arbitrary laws with predictable results.. 

I once asked what a king is without his kingdom.. How selfish of me.. For a more dire question becomes.. What’s a kingdom without its king..

Up for grabs.. Mayhem, chaos, distasteful order..

Where do the remaining pawns go once the king has been check mated?

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