Slipping this one in just under the wire before it gets jossed all to hell tonight: it's from Keats's POV; reflecting on his cosmic game of chess with Gene Hunt, and focusing on one very valuable pawn he seems to have captured.
For the vast majority of you who have no idea what that's in aid of: carry on, nothing to see here. For the one or two of you who do? Yes, I am duly ashamed of myself.