The Boardgame Of Life


Either a window or a facade
is yet another face hidden in a masquerade.
A curtain half drawn
remains a reflection in the mirror unknown.
Is the one hidden behind the sheath of cards labelled as the winner,
hiding behind the triumph the world of a loner.
Is the one who ceases to be a gambler in the casino of one and all
the one who must await his downfall.
Is the one who hands over lies to hold the hand of trust,
the one who thrives in the courtroom of the just.
But is the one who stands tall in the crowd of chaos,
the one whose integrity we never come across.
Is the one that seldom seems wrong,
the one who plays all along.
Is the one who is not a player but merely a spectator,
the one who is discarded as a traitor.
Is the king on the chessboard who looks down upon his pawn,
the one who harbours the fear to be looked down upon.
The humans will play and will be played with in the board game
Brain will conquer the heart brawn will overpower the brain.

Comments

  1. Vignesh SureshJanuary 12, 2011

    Love this one/// :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. AnonymousJanuary 12, 2011

    The best part about this poem is that it is shaped like a chess pawn itself!

    ReplyDelete

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