Once upon a time, neutrality was easy. The world was full of benign figures. We could collect our emotions about them into a pin, and the pin was more.
Then things began, to unravel swiftly and people began to polarize—one to the black king, one to the white—until all the pawns were equal.
Castles on the corners (straight on til morning) where all fairy tales collide. A duo of dashing Knights (step to ma’ loo ma’ darlin’) dancing the ballroom floor. Queen, oh Queen, always, a woman will have the most power and be the most willing to sacrifice (off with her head!) and she does.
Chess never had a neutral. Even the holy men took their sides ( I heard the blasphemous ting of hallelujah, reverberate off their bloodied crosses) a holy splatter of murder upon their hearts.
The only way to always win, was to never play the game. The sides quarrelled. The killed. Black, white.
But, not all things are about winning.
Some are simply about, life.
I watched the war. I was its prisoner. But it didn’t matter who won, because my King, would crush them all.