Pawns

Soldiers form 2 ranks from horizon to horizon
The 1st wave of attack: some maniacal enterprising
It's a 6 step programme to get each to the finish
Ascend in social status or sidestep and diminish
Behind them rest authority figures; some quote scriptures
Others claim royal blood & flaunt siguls to fool the witless
We march, all of us, to our opposite numbers
As if our hands are tied with the blades we switch under
Starting at a sprint but fatigue grows quickly
Black and white becomes grey as my brothers flow with me
We halt at the epicentre; stand face to face
My negative clone here to embrace with hate
While a self-proclaimed king stands guarded at the back
Ordering every element harder to attack
A spiteful individual, waves his crown if we're winning
But if the coward loses he tears his army down with him
So now all we see is disgrace in his eyes
Looking at any one of 64 places to hide
The revolution starts, the social structure is torn
Black and white unite: behold the dawn of the pawns