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march
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- I'm trudging my way into a bleak future
Whilst seeing my past being torn into
and exploited
The things I try to forget
My wrongs I can never make right
I'm marching through the streets in my head
A tired soldier wishing for bed
One by one my comrades fall beneath the storm of gunshot
Yet still I stand, somehow stronger than the others
Until now
I can feel blood staining my shirt, and wounds deepening.
This March
This treacherous commute
Will leave me bloody and broken
This journey through life requires more of me than I can give
I am but one soldier
What do I matter?
When I fall will you grieve?
Or will you shrug me off in death as in life?
Ah but still I March
these thoughts giving weight to my conscious
I will walk beneath my burden until I can no longer move
And even still in my eternal sleep
Will I be walking
