Pawns

We are but mere pawns in greedy hands of “kings”,
We are like mindless spawns, as soul-enslaved beings.
No more than the listeners, no more than the followers,
No more than self-missing ones … will ever we be over us?
We follow those without minds, who claim they have divine rights,
As if they are the higher beings – yet they and blind and have no seeing.
We could not find the satisfaction unless belonging to some faction,
Unless we all are parts of crowd, for only then we feel as stout.
And we will fight to our death with those ones who’s been claimed as “less”,
And we will drink theirs bloody tears – and name those drinkers as the “heroes”.
Thus snake will catch its own tail, thus it will come to no avail.
Thus “heroes” born, thus “heroes” die … are you in life just passer-by?
And does thy soul ever feels, that you are standing on your kneels,
That you are lesser than a man if you are slave there and then?
And will you ever understand that there is but one Upper Hand,
The hand of God, not mere men, and will it all be over then?
But will you ever come to peace? And will you stop some other’s tease?
And will you ever think of others as if they were your own brothers?
And will you find the satisfaction belonging to yourself, not faction?
And will you thus become the Man, so it can all be over then?
Just one thing might be said as right – it will be done by men of mind.