Eight peasants protect lords
For turf with checkered past
Through light's incessant forays
Dark often answers back
All king's rise and fall
On the courage of their pawns
Many kingdoms lost and earned
Upon a daring queen's return
On a peasant's strange ascent.
Men with swords on chargers
At odds with men of prayer
Peasants with their broken backs
Crawl forth through open air
Though no one guards the peasant
There are no shades of gray
In wars of black and white
It's not lords who sway the day.
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