We are but a palette of intricate faces
Sniveling on a belligerent canvas;
Acquiesced; like corpses,
dragging our cadaverous bones,
tethered to the loop of infinite time.
Eroded toward the edges facing light,
filling the air with a stench
coming from our crumpled uniforms-
unsymmetrical stripes, and disheveled locks,
dancing under the blood moon.
The operation theater’s light is on,
Someone lost another muffled battle;
No one cries, and another life fills up
these dormant shoes,
pushed into the file;
Walk! Walk! Walk! Walk!
Until the end of time.