Mortal Combat

‘Tis but a Drug provides this feel

Of Treasure to be sought;

Unto blind Mistress men must kneel,

To speak of battles fought.

She makes all Fair in Love and War;

To progress her attack

All Matter’s played by her and more -

It’s White that moves the Black.

For whether in the Lover’s touch,

Or killing field’s death-dance,

You’ll find the Drug is much a much -

And all’s the Addict’s stance.

For e’er you hear Love’s passion sung,

There’s Villain in the piece;

Some Rival who must be undone -

Until the pangs decease.

Between the moves contrary Truth

Bears witness to this plan;

From warring men save future Youth,

To grow to warring Man -

Who in Love’s garden pluck a Rose

To tend beyond all others,

Then guard Her beauty to death throes

Of Self (or rival lovers).

As winners lose when losers win

The Drug makes players daft;

The game but begins the Begin

And laughs the last unlaugh.